The Strangers (Critical Role)
by ThePimpKnight
Summary: A group of normal humans is teleported to Exandria where they are forced into service with the mysterious Adventurer's Guild. Follow as they learn to be sellswords and maybe find a way home. This fic will be influenced by dice rolls for things like combat and intimidation checks, just like a game of D&D. Put your fate in your hands, take a chance, roll the dice. Also on RoyalRoadL.
1. Awake

For all the world's unthinkable dreams, none compared to this.

His eyes fluttered open. The room was dimly lit, indicating he'd probably woken up sometime in the middle of the night. Typical, really. The day Brian Jeffries got an uninterrupted night's sleep was the day he died. Though unseasonably warm, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.

The first indication that something was indeed wrong was the torchlight dancing amongst the walls. He didn't remember his New York apartment being lit by torches, but his sleep addled mind was ready to accept it as fact. What he saw next, however, sat him up in bed, in soft white sheet which weren't his own.

There were people everywhere. At least two dozen other beds occupied the space. The people within them stirred just as he. Now that his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see this was not his home at all, but rather a long and narrow structure made mostly from wood with stone corners. The air settled thick with humidity.

"Where am I?" Inquired a loud male voice.

"What happened? Who are you people?" Panicked a young woman.

"Mom? Mommy?" This one a boy, his voice cracking with immaturity.

"Oh God! Oh God, help!" One woman turned to a higher power.

"Everyone stop yelling, shit." This man sounded much more tired than the rest.

Brian searched the room with his eyes, gaze frantic with the confusion he kept to himself. It was too dark to make out much in the way of detail. Even the person next to him was just a vaguely human shape. The person locked eyes with him for a moment, he was pretty sure. Before saying anything, they looked away.

He grabbed the sheets beneath his hands. It felt like some sort of thin cloth, maybe linen, but definitely not silk. Brian extracted his hands to inspect the palms. These were his hands, this was his body, but not his home. At the very least, that ruled out a body swap. Maybe this was a time travel dream?

Perhaps the air provided a hint? It was warm, which ruled out anywhere near his home. Nowhere in New England was hot in the middle of October. It was also humid, even through the several burning fires which lit the place. Florida maybe? The place was certainly rundown enough.

The sound of metal on wood filled the room. More than one person screamed at the sudden disruption. Brian turned to his left and saw a door he hadn't known was there swing open. Daylight shone through, too bright for a glance at what lay beyond.

"What the hell was that?" Called a woman.

"The door opened," a man answered.

"Should we go through it?" The woman again.

"That's probably what they want us to do," said a different male voice.

"Then that's a great reason to stay here," said a man. Brian nodded agreement.

"Who's _they_?" Inquired a woman.

Though Brian agreed they should stay put, apparently others thought differently. Two figures, both of them men, peered through the new opening. Light silhouetted them. They lingered for a moment, and all the while silence reigned. The one on the right took a half step, hesitated, and then dove into the unknown. A few people gasped, and one called after him.

"No, you idiot!"

Brian held his breath while he waited for the brave soul to return. He didn't have to wonder long, however, as the man poked his head inside a few seconds later.

"The coast is clear, I think," he called into the room. "Just a few guards."

"Guards?" A man wondered aloud.

"You guys should really come see this." With that, the guy outside disappeared again.

To Brian's absolute amazement, people actually listened. Not just some, either. Most of them rose from their seats and began toward the exit. Had these fools never seen a horror movie?

They shuffled in a great procession of clattering feet and shifting cloth. Brian watched them pass by his bed with eyes wide both from shock and a vain attempt to see better. In this light, all he could really tell was that some were taller than others.

"Yeah, fuck that. My ass is staying right here," said a man, one from before.

Despite his protest, the majority continued to move on outside. A few more joined them. The ones closest to the door were already gone, and more trickled out every second.

Brian saw his situation reverse with the continuing departures. If outside into the unknown was a bad place to be, then alone in a dark room with strangers was perhaps even worse. There was power in numbers, safety. His best bet may have been with the bold, rather than the cautious. Using movie logic once again, the ones who stayed behind usually turned up as corpses later. Or, came back at the end to save everyone. Somehow he expected the former.

Bereft of options and admittedly curious, Brian got out of bed. Hesitation put him toward the back of the line. He merged in front of a sorter person who smelled of flowers and cheap chemicals, which meant it was probably a girl. The room was still much too dark for proper vision.

The brightness outside blinded him for a moment. Brian put up a hand to block the sun. When his vision returned, he found himself standing upon a broad stone platform. Around him arrayed a loose congregation of people. They were normal folks just like him. A variety of races, ages, shapes, sizes, and hair styles made up the crowd. There were notably more men than women, but not overwhelmingly so.

Brian didn't inspect this crew for long, though, as below him stretched what could only be described as a medieval town. The building he woke up in sat on a hill just outside the town proper. Making it up were a great assortment of homes shod from wood and stone and thatch. There were residential areas with the structures placed closer together, a commercial district spaced more openly, and a keep of sorts on the far side. A large lake with two islands in the middle bordered the town on the left side. The hints of industry rose up around it.

"Guys," breathed someone, "where the hell are we?"

"The buildings look French, maybe German," said a man with the tone of someone trying to sound smart.

"Alright, so how do I fall asleep in Glasgow, and wake up in Germany? That sounds like a nightmare."

"Now that you mention it, I don't even remember falling asleep."

That revelation rocked through Brian as he realized he also didn't remember falling asleep. If he searched his mind, the last thing he remembered was sitting down with his friends for their weekly Dungeons and Dragons game. It wasn't uncommon for sessions to feel like a blur, but he usually remembered something. This time, try as he might, nothing at all came to mind. He rolled a natural 1, and then woke up in this strange land.

Thinking about his friends made him remember them for the first time. Maybe they had some idea what happened, and even if they didn't, it would be nice to find a familiar face. He scanned the crowd, to no avail. These people were all strangers, no more known to him than the bed he awoke in.

"Excuse me, good sirs," Someone said. Brian turned to see an aged Hispanic man attempting to speak with one of the guards, whom he'd forgotten completely about.

The guards wore full plate harnesses, complete with visored helmets flipped up so they could see. The armor itself was simple, grey metal plates molded to fit each man and rivited where necessary. Bits of chain maille filled in gaps at the joints. It seemed the kind of armor made for function, not necessarily form. Each carried a poleaxe, as well as an arming sword at their sides.

"Citizen," one of them replied.

"I'm sorry, but we appear to be lost. Could you please tell us where we are?" Asked the old man.

"Certainly. You are in the town of Trostenwald, part of the Dwendalian Empire."

"Oh, you must be a Critter, too." The old man smiled and held up the branded lanyard hanging from his pocket.

"Do I look like an animal to you?" The guard menaced through narrow eyes.

"What?" Gasped the old man. "You're serious? Come on, this has to be a joke."

"Look for yourself. Where else would you be? The Nine Hells?"

"It might as well be," joked the other guard. They both had a good snicker at that.

Brian looked away. Those two were clearly in on whatever sick prank this was. Then again, the town before him did resemble how Trostenwald was described, from what he could remember. It even had the big lake. What was it called again, Tarrlok? No, wrong show. Furthermore, it didn't look like any sort of trick or special effect. But there's no way they were on Exandria, right? That place didn't exist.

Before he could further contemplate this, a voice addressed them. It was rough and reedy, like sandpaper going over an old piece of bark.

"You must be the new members. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Adventurer's Guild."

All eyes at once turned to the voice. It belonged to a man so old his skin was more wrinkle than anything else. What remained of his wispy white hair fell in a thin curtain down his shoulders. A deep purple robe cascaded along his form, lined with golden thread along the collar, cuffs, and hem. He had blue eyes, a long face, and a hooked beak of a nose.

"The what?" Asked a woman behind Brian.

"Who the hell are you, old man?" A bloke took a more confrontational approach.

"My name is Edgar. I am the caretaker of this building, as well as Overseer for the Adventurer's Guild," answered the old man.

"You keep saying that. What is this _Adventurer's Guild_ ?" Finally, someone asked the real question.

"Why, only the most accomplished band of fighters and mercenaries in Wildemount. You all are our newest members." He looked over them for a moment. "I must say, there are a lot of you."

"Wait, you're _who,_ exactly?"

"Do you know what happened?"

"How do we get home?"

The place erupted with questions. Edgar held up his hands in a placating gesture and, to Brian's sheet amazement, everyone actually quieted down.

"Please, I'm sure there is much to discuss, but let's not waste time out here. Come, the Meister is feeling generous today, so he has agreed to let you all pick gear from our armory. We can talk on the way."

Edgar turned and began to leave. A few people stepped toward him. A single voice from the crowd stopped them all.

"No," she denied. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't want to be in your guild, or whatever it is. I don't want to be here. I just want to go home. If you can't do that, then I'll find someone who can."

A few years younger than Brian's mid-twenties but quite a bit shorter, she had blonde hair and green eyes. Edgar met her intense glare with one of his own.

"Whether you follow is your choice, but to leave now would be a breach of you contract."

"Contract?" The woman shot right back. "I never signed a contract."

"Oh, but you did." Edgar fished through a robe pocket and extracted a rolled up piece of paper that shouldn't have fit. He unraveled it. "Tiffany Tailor, age 20, height 5'4", weight... well, I'll spare you that. This contract is signed in your blood and sealed with magic. The cut and runes on your palm prove as much. You all signed similar contracts."

Brian, Tiffany, and many others looked at their hands. Sure enough, he had a thick slice running down the width of his left palm. He hadn't seen it in the dark. It was a clean cut, recently scabbed over. A few arcane symbols were scrawled into the corners, carved into his skin. They glowed lowly with a bright purple, pulsing in time with the blood in his veins. He picked at them, just to make sure they were real. His nails caught the scar tissue at the same time as his stomach plummeted.

"This seal binds you to service with the Adventurer's Guild for one year. Should you break our pact, you will be hunted, captured, and brought before the Meister for judgment. The maximum punishment for desertion is death, and he is not a merciful man. While you may die in service with the Guild, you most certainly will die if you cross us. If you value your life you will come with me. So, does anyone have a death wish?"

His question lay heavy in the air. The new recruits exchanged glances with each other, but none dared look at Edgar. They were captives, serfs bound to a service they never signed up for. By his sneer, Edgar knew this. Though they all probably felt the same dissent Brian did, none spoke a word of it.

"I thought not. Come with me."

This time when Edgar turned around, no one tried to stop him. There was hesitation, but when the first person followed - a burly fellow who looked to have just walked off the set of Jersey Shore - the rest did as well. Brian's positioning placed him at about the middle of the pack. He caught a glimpse of the girl who had spoken out several spots ahead of him.

"This can't be real," a man behind him said. "I can't be in the game. This has to be a dream. Quick, someone slap me awake!"

"Come 'ere, I'll smack ya," offered the guy from Scotland.

There came a short pause where Brian wondered if either party would go through with it. His quandary was answered by a resounding slap.

"Ow! _Fuck_! It's real, it's fucking real!"

There were chuckles all around, including from Brian, but nothing more than that. Still, it did his heart some amount of good to have a little laugh. Anything to break the dismal circumstance, really.

"I'm glad you all are so lively," Edgar said, reminding everyone he still existed. "Like I said, the Adventurer's Guild is a band of mercenaries and fighters. In simple terms, we're sellswords, but we think of ourselves as more sophisticated than that."

Edgar led them down a staricase on the left of the building.

"But most of us aren't fighters, I'm pretty sure," a man argued.

"Many aren't when they first come to us. They seek us out for glory, fame, coin, or simple entertainment. No matter the reason, no prior experience is required to do what we do."

"And what exactly do you do?" Asked a woman.

"We accept contracts from paying customers. They give us a job to do, and we do it, mostly stuff the military either can't or won't cover. Everything from exterminating pests, to slaying dragons, and everything in between. If there's coin to be had, you can count on us. Don't worry, though. You'll be starting small. The dragons are saved for our most elite teams."

As if he'd perfectly timed the entire conversation, the moment Edgar finished speaking he reached the bottom step. A grey painted wooden door greeted him there. The others stopped behind him. From the same pocket where he found Tiffany's contract, he pulled out a long silver key. Giving it a twist inside the lock produced a loud thudding click. It swung open, key still in the lock.

"And here we are, the armory. Inside you'll find everything you need to begin your career with us. Therdin, our Quartermaster, will provide you with 200 gold pieces to purchase items. Choose wisely." Edgar stepped aside and ushered them in.

"Oh, and welcome once again to the Adventurer's Guild."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Not a whole lot of rolling in this first chapter. Brian failed his perception check while trying to see the person next to him in the dark. The guy who first went outside succeeded his persuasion check with a 19 to make the others want to follow him. The old Hispanic man made his persuasion check when talking to the guards, but it wasn't a very high DC. Tiffany bombed her intimidation check against Edgar with a 6, whereas Edgar made his check back at her (and everyone else) with a 17. The Scottish guy rolled a 16 to slap the other dude, and did 4 points of damage, which is a pretty hefty smack!**

 **All of these high and low rolls made things progress much more simply than I maybe would've written it otherwise, but that's the fun of writing this way. I think this will be a fascinating little experiment.**


	2. Caparisoned for War

As the people – with an air of reluctance and hesitation – walked into the armory, Brian got a peek at the inside through the wide open door. Hanging vertically on various hooks on the walls were an assortment of polearms. They didn't seem sorted beyond that. Halberds, bordered pikes, sat next to poleaxes and a variety of spears. There were even partisans and a singular guandao hanging amongst them. This _Adventurer's Guild_ , if nothing else, was certainly well equipped.

It came time for Brian to step through the door. The moment he did, a brown cloth coin purse was thrust in front of his face. He stopped short of running his nose into it. His eyes followed the arm to a tall man in a sleeveless green tunic and simple cloth breeches. Fair of complexion, this man was impossibly handsome with his green eyes and glorious red hair. Brian thought him just a normal dude, until he saw the long pointy ears.

It was then that Brian remembered what Edgar had just said. Each member would be offered 200 gold pieces to purchase equipment. That's probably what the coin purse was for, then, which would make the person holding it the Quartermaster. Therdin was an elf.

Brian took the purse with a stare for Therdin, who gave him a broad smile but said nothing. Coin in hand, the human realized he was holding up the line. He took a few steps into the room and stood off to one side. His mind raced at a thousand miles a minute. An elf, a real _elf_. Forget the torches, the landscape, the armed guards, and even the architecture, _that_ was what really cemented things for him. Seeing an elf in the flesh brought the reality crashing down around him. Even if it were just makeup – a possibility he was unwilling to rule out – Brian was most certainly not in New York anymore.

When he thought about it, that was what really mattered. Say this whole situation were a trick or a dream, so what? Fake or not, he was in it now. He, as a normal human, was now in Exandria. This _Edgar_ fellow was going to turn him into a mercenary of some sort. Until he found a way out of this conundrum, it may have been in his best interest to take things more seriously. If Brian had to be a sellsword, then he should work toward that eventuality.

To that end, he took a good look around the armory. It was another room longer than it was wide, but much larger than the one he'd woken up in. Ten people could probably stand abreast with their arms outstretched widthwise, and many more could do the same in the opposite direction. Unlike the first room, this one was not lit by torches. Instead, globes of white light along the ceiling provided ample illumination. It was bright as any modern day living room inside.

The entire far wall was dedicated to weaponry. They were sorted by type so all the swords went together, same with all the axes, polearms, bows, crossbows, staves, et cetera. While mostly a European-styled affair, there were some oddballs breaking up the scenery. A katana hung amongst the swords, a bardiche with the axes, a short horn bow, and a few others.

The wall to his right contained what appeared to be miscellaneous equipment. Though Brian couldn't see it very well, he noticed things like packs of herbs, robes, lockpicks, torches, maps, and a bunch of other stuff he failed to quite make out. The recruits were probably supposed to use this area for the creation of things like dungeoneering kits. There was also a door in the right-hand corner of this wall, leading to parts unknown.

He turned to look at the displays behind him. This wall was all armor. Mostly light and medium varieties, there were a few plate harnesses to choose from. The far corner contained shields. It was then that Brian noticed each individual item had a price tag, which must've been where the 200 gold came into play. He just so happened to be right in front of a pair of scale armor. The cuirass cost 40 gold, each pauldron was 10, the schynbalds 20, gloves 10, and helmet 30. If the weapons were much more expensive, then that gift of gold wouldn't last very long.

Which brought him to his next point, weapons. If he were choosing gear, that seemed like a good place to start. Brian made his way over to the wall of armaments. It was a bit daunting the sheer number of options available to him. He'd no idea where to begin.

If he really were trapped inside a Dungeons and Dragons game, then it followed game logic would apply. That in mind, he knew something ranged was his best option. He'd done archery in gym class, and even though that was a long time ago, he felt confident in his abilities to at least harass a target. And, a bow kept him out of the danger. The only problem was most parties in the game were overburdened with ranged characters using the same argument. When the danger were real, the issue could be expected to worsen. He may be better off with something else.

Wizardry was a hard no. He didn't feel like lugging around a giant book everywhere. Same for anything with a two-handed weapon. He probably couldn't even lift a great axe, much less swing one. Sword and board it was, then.

Now, what role would he play? There were always plenty of fighters, rogues, and rangers to go around. If he wanted to be valuable, then it was best to avoid those archetypes. Every party, however, needed a healer, but no one ever wanted to be the cleric. Thinking like that led him to where he currently stood in the far corner of the weapon wall, before a holy symbol of the Platinum Dragon.

He didn't mind being the healer, and had even played a very successful human war cleric a few years ago. Channeling that character now solved both the problem of middling melee support and a potential lack of healers. He took the silver dragon pendant and slipped it around his neck.

Brian took a step toward something he saw back up the weapon wall.

"Um, excuse me?" A small voice from behind stopped him.

Brian turned and came face-to-face with Tiffany, playing with the hem of her pink v-neck, looking up at him with soft eyes.

"Uh, hi?" he said, voice cracking like an idiot.

"Do you- would you mind helping me out? I've never seen any of this stuff before, and you look like you know what you're doing." The way she spoke was fast and wooden, probably a statement rehearsed many times before delivery.

Brian seriously doubted that. Tall, skinny, bespectacled, and almost sickly pale, he didn't look the first thing like a warrior. But, he couldn't say no to her, either. They were all in this together, after all. If he were going to be a cleric and help people, what better way to start than by helping someone?

"Sure, I'll help you," he said. "Come on, let's go look at the weapons first. That's what I'm doing."

Brian took off in the direction he'd been about to go, with Tiffany a half step behind. She smelled faintly of flowers and chemicals.

"Okay, I need to ask you a dumb question first." He gave her time to respond. She just stared at him. "Have you ever used a sword before?"

"Really?" She scrunched up her face. "What do you think?"

"Alright, thought so. Follow-up question: Have you ever fired a gun?"

Tiffany cocked her stance and raised an eyebrow. "I'm from Dallas."

"So 'yes,' then. In that case, what you're looking for is one of these." Brian stopped them in front of a particular section.

"A bow and arrow?"

"A _crossbow._ Light crossbow, to be exact." Brian corrected as he took it off the wall. "The concept is mostly the same as a gun. You pull back this string, load a bolt, shoulder it, and pull up on the little lever on the bottom here."

Brian demonstrated each step as he explained them, save for loading a bolt. The crossbow made a distinctly unsatisfying thump as the string released with no weight to push forward.

" Have you... used one of these before?" Tiffany asked, surprised. Or maybe she was off-put. Brian couldn't really tell.

"No, but I've seen enough movies and played enough games to know basically how one of these works," Brian said, which was true. He skipped that he'd seen more than one instructional video about how to fire a crossbow, not for class or anything, but for fun.

"Right." Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Is this all I need?"

"No, not quite. You need the bolts, first of all." Brian handed the crossbow to Tiffany, followed by a full quiver from the wall. She took them both in her arms.

"Okay…" Tiffany trailed off as she made space for both objects.

"Next you'll need a pair of these." Brian moved one section down the wall and removed two sheathed daggers from their hooks. He held them out to her.

"Why do I need two knives?" She asked with a suspicious look at them.

"So you can make an off-hand attack," Brian answered simply.

"A what?"

"An off-hand attack. It's when you have a weapon in each hand you can roll for…" He stopped himself. "Just in case something happens to the first one."

He handed her the daggers, looking at the floor instead of her face. There were no rules to refer to, no dice to worry about, not anymore. He felt so foolish, thinking about things like bonus actions in a place like this.

"Come on, let's get the rest of your gear." He led Tiffany over toward the east wall, eager to put that little slip-up behind him.

"I need more stuff?" Tiffany protested.

"Just a few more things. It takes a lot of gear to be an adventurer."

"Adventurer, huh? You're really getting in the spirit."

"Not really, "Brian shrugged. "It just a general term, you know?"

"Actually, I don't. I think all this fantasy stuff is stupid. I've never even heard of this _Toasterwald,_ or wherever we are."

Brian let that slide off his back. Tiffany was far from the first pretty girl to tell him his interests were stupid, and she wouldn't be the last. Instead, he just stopped them in front of the miscellaneous gear wall.

"I'm setting you up as a rogue, so you don't really need much from back here. Most important is a set of thieves tools." He handed her a bundle of various lockpicks and trap disarming devices. "Other than that, some rope, two torches, and a healing potion are always good things to have." He also handed her these things.

"How do you know what thieves tools even look like?" Tiffany asked, audibly shuffling stuff around in her arms.

"I don't really, but I know what lockpicks look like, so I'm assuming the bundle with lockpicks in it is meant for thieves or something."

Brian turned to look at Tiffany, and had to stop himself from laughing. She'd managed to put on the quiver – incorrectly over just one shoulder. The thieves tools were in one hand. The rest she balanced on her arms, including the health potion in its glass vial.

"Here, I can carry some of that," he said. Brian grabbed the torches and the potion, which then occupied both of his hands. "There's one last thing you need: armor." He walked past her toward the appropriate wall.

"Like a knight or something?" Tiffany said as she turned to fall in behind him.

"No, no, I'm thinking something much lighter. Rogues always wear leather or cloth."

"That sounds really lame."

Brian brought her to the section of wall dedicated to leather armors. There were a multitude of sizes and styles to choose from, some more outlandish than others, some dyed while others left plain brown. Just like with the scale he'd looked at, each piece was priced individually. With how cheap the rest of Tiffany's eqipment was, she could probably afford to deck herself out in full leather.

One set in particular looked like it might fit. The cuirass was made up of two big pieces, one over lapping the other with a chevron point at the bottom. Two tear drop shaped pauldrons integrated into the design, which brought up the price a bit. Some sort of black fur was laid beneath the leather itself. There was also a pair of bracers with several rows of studs, as well as half-calf boots in a similar pattern. A simple skull cap rounded out the ensemble. It was likely effective, but didn't really fit with the rest of the pieces.

"You want me to wear this?" Tiffany seemed utterly aghast.

"Or something like it," Brian shrugged. "You can pick out whatever you like."

"Okay, I was wrong. This is so much worse than just _lame_. I don't think I can find a word for it." Tiffany said. She probably would've crossed her arms, were she able.

"Oh, come on. I'm sure it'll look fine," implored Brian.

"Fine? It doesn't even come with pants!"

"I think you're supposed to buy some quilted trousers or something to go with it." Brian pointed the direction they'd come from, where the cloth armor was. "Though, denim is pretty good at turning blades. You might be fine with just jeans." He didn't dare tell her the armor most likely was meant to be worn as is. Fantasy armor was never quite kind to women. Tiffany would probably shoot him if he said as much.

"Alright, well, even so, I don't have the first idea how to put on any of this." Tiffany continued to find things to object over.

"Uh, well, I could probably help you, but I don't think that would be appropriate." Brian looked at the floor, the ceiling, the torches in his hands, anywhere but at her face. He hoped she wouldn't notice how red his cheeks were.

"You think?" Tiffany rolled her eyes at him. More specifically, his half-assed attempt at a come on.

"I might be able to lend a hand," a voice interjected, one with a distinctly Norwegian accent.

She was tall for a woman, just a tad shorter than Brian's 5'10". Silky black hair spilled about six inches down her back and shoulders, and framed the pale skin on her pretty, long face. Bright green eyes pierced Brian to the very core. For all her intimidating beauty, what struck him most about this woman were her clothes.

She wore a short sleeved chain maille hauberk with an emerald green shirt beneath. A big round shield hung from her back, while a Viking-style sword dangled from her left hip. Leather bracers protected her wrists and forearms halfway up. Brown cloth trousers fed into leather schynbalds and boots. Athletic and strong, it all suited her perfectly. Brian looked around the room. As far as he could tell, she were the only one wearing a single scrap of armor.

"Ylva," she introduced herself with an outstretched hand.

"Brian." He accepted her handshake. They released, and Ylva moved on to the next person.

"Tiffany." The two shook.

"Nice to meet you both," Ylva said with a nod.

"I, uh… I hate to ask, but are you-" Brian began.

"I'm like you," Ylva cut him off. He breathed a mental sigh of relief. "You were looking for help with your armor?" She said to Tiffany.

"Sure, I guess." Responded Tiffany.

"Well come on, then. Something like that takes two people to put on, anyway." Ylva gestured toward the door near the miscellaneous table.

"Why would I go anywhere with you? I don't know you, and besides that, you're armed." She stepped away from the taller woman.

"Fair point." With nary an ounce of hesitation, Ylva unbuckled her sword belt and let it fall to the ground. "Now you're the armed one. I don't wanna hurt you, I promise, and if I did you've got two daggers to fight me off with. I really do wanna help."

Tiffany considered this for several seconds, more than long enough for things to grow awkward. Brian did his best not to look at anyone, so he instead went over the torches in his hands. They were good torches, probably burn real nice.

"Okay," Tiffany said finally.

"Great! Is this your stuff, too?" Ylva pointed at the things Brian carried. Both he and Tiffany nodded. "I'll take it, then." She gathered up the few items Brian managed to scavenge.

"Watch after my sword, will ya?" Ylva asked Brian, who nodded. "Thank you. We'll be right back."

With a nod for Tiffany, who seemed still confused at the sudden appearance of this tall armored woman, the two ladies headed off toward the aforementioned door. Brian watched them go, realizing as they did that he now had no one to talk to again. Despite the other people milling about the space, it felt emptier than before. He put on Ylva's sword belt. The weight on his hip was much lighter than he expected.

Well, nothing else to do now but pick out his own equipment. Unlike with Tiffany, Brian started with the armor wall since he was already standing there. If he were going for a war cleric, then he had a lot of options open to him. There was always full or partial plate, but that was far too expensive. Besides, even if he could afford it, something told him the weight would be untenable.

That line of thinking was what led him back to the scale armor he'd noticed earlier. All of the parts were made from small diamond-shaped metal flats overlapping in rows offset from one another. The cuirass consisted of two layers, with the first stopping halfway down. The pauldrons were two broad bands of scales that tied to the chest piece. The bracers and shin guards had the scales up swept. Brian didn't look at the helmet, because he knew he couldn't afford it. He grabbed all the pieces sans helmet, and added a belt of his own, for a grand total of 80 gold.

Next, weapons. Brian had exactly zero combat experience of any sort, so swords were out. Axes were also probably a safe exclusion. Really, anything with an edge he had to worry about aligning was a poor fit. He needed something much simpler.

A war hammer caught his eye. A flat head, long thick spike, and langets on an unstained wood handle, it looked menacing as it was basic. Brian took it in his hands. The weight felt good, top-heavy but not uncontrollable. And, the spike offered an amount if flexibility. It was the perfect weapon.

To go with it, he took up a heater shield, blue with silver chevrons painted on either side whose points never quite met. If he couldn't fight, making himself harder to hit may save his life.

He now knew how Tiffany felt with all this stuff in his arms. So, the first thing he picked up over at the miscellaneous wall was a tan canvas bag, the sort that hung over one shoulder and across the chest. Into the bag he stuffed a healer's kit, some rope, a torch, and some rations. With that, his kit was complete. When all was said and done he had 60 gold left over.

Which raised the question of where he would actually go about equipping all of his new items. He suspected one major reason why so few others had any armor on was because there were no changing rooms. None that were visible, anyway. Most people didn't like the idea of putting on extra garments in front of a bunch of strangers, and Brian wasn't a fan, either.

He heard a set of jangly footsteps approach from his right. Brian turned just in time to see Ylva reach him, her armor jangling a little with each step.

Behind her stood Tiffany. The leather armor fit her perfectly. Just as Brian had advised, she'd elected to keep on her pink shirt and blue jeans. Combined with the leather, it made her look like a character from Mad Max, with a distinct fantasy flair. She also had the crossbow slung around her back, the daggers vertically on her left hip, the quiver at her right, and a bag much like Brian's. Maybe it was just the nerd in him, but Brian thought she looked better in the armor, than just her clothes.

Tiffany's posture was a bit cloistered. She had one knee slightly bent, rubbing against the other. Her shoulders were hunched, head slightly down and forward as her eyes scanned the crowd but refused to look at anyone. Her right hand slowly caressed her left shoulder.

"You're back," Brian commented.

"We would've been back sooner, but I spent most of the time convincing Tiffany to come out," Ylva said, hiking a thumb over the shoulder at the aforementioned girl.

"Can you blame me? I mean, who would wanna be seen in this crap?" Tiffany took a quick glance around. "I look ridiculous."

"Naw, you look great," encouraged Ylva. "Doesn't she look great?"

It took Brian a second to realize that question had been posed to him. He froze up a bit. He knew it was bad form to compliment a woman he'd just met, especially when she were so clearly uncomfortable. In lieu of saying anything, he gave a quick nod.

"See? Even Brian agrees," Ylva said, and Brian wished she hadn't. Tiffany met his eyes, and they both looked away for a second.

"Whatever," she muttered.

"Oh, you picked out your armor," Ylva said. She stepped closer to Brian and lifted up part of a pauldron. "Scale, good choice; light, flexible, and strong."

"Thanks, that's more or less what I was going for," Brian said.

"Well, do you need a hand putting it on?" Ylva offered.

"Oh, no." Brian took a step back, shaking his head. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Oh, come on, I just helped Tiffany," insisted Ylva.

"No, really, I can manage."

"Yes, _really_. You're gonna need two people to put that one, especially the bracers. Good luck tying those up with just one hand."

"Still," Brian began, "don't you think it's a little... I mean, I just met you."

"Oh, don't be shy," Ylva batted the notion away. "You're not the first man I've helped get into his armor."

For a split second, Brian wondered if that was supposed to be an inuendo. No, Ylva didn't seem like the type. When that uncertainty wore off, he was left with something else: The complete lack of a reason to deny her. He doubted his ability to put any of it on by himself. Ylva, on the other hand, not only helped Tiffany, but seemed to get into her own outfit alone. Besides that, she was offering freely. He really had no reason to refuse.

"Sure," Brian said with a barely hidden sigh.

"Great! Follow me, then."

Ylva made an overhand sweeping motion then turned around and made for the door she'd just come from. Brian was silent as he walked behind her, so it was good their destination was close. He felt a little bad about leaving Tiffany alone. Hopefully they'd be back soon.

Ylva made it to the door next to the miscellaneous wall and held it open for Brian. He was conscious of the role reversal as he stepped through. He was supposed to hold the door for her, not the other way around. Ylva let the door swing closed as she fell in behind him.

"The fitting room is right over here," she said with a point to a plain wooden door immediately to their left.

"How did you even know where it is?" Brian asked.

"I asked Therdin if there was any place to change," Ylva answered simply. "He's pretty nice, very soft-spoken."

Brian stepped through the indicated passage. He found not a singular room, but a narrow hallway lined with green curtained stalls. The drapes hung a good distance from the ceiling and went almost all the way to the floor so only the feet of whoever occupied then would be visible. Currently, all we're vacant.

Since they were probably all the same, Brian entered the one closest on his right. He was momentarily stunned when Ylva followed him inside. He then remembered two things. One, he'd agreed to let her in. Two, he wouldn't actually be changing clothes, only putting more stuff on.

"Just put your armor on the floor, for now," Ylva instructed, and Brian complied. "We'll start with the hardest piece first. Give me a T pose?"

Ylva demonstrated what she meant by holding her arms up and out so she resembled the letter T. Brian copied her. Ylva gathered up the chest piece and began the process of putting it on him. The cuirass opened on one side. She closed it over his chest by feeding his arm through the far loop then holding it together.

When it was on, she began the process of tying the two sides together. Ylva's fingers and nails tickled as they worked against Brian's side just below his left armpit. Her hands were strong, yet her touch delicate. Brian did his best to suppress the shiver that went down his spine. He was mostly successful.

"This part takes the longest because there are so many ties," Ylva said as she worked. "The secret is to put the knots on the inside so there's no gap to cut through."

"You really know a lot about armor," Brian commented.

"I should hope so." Ylva chuckled, and moved on to the next string. "I'm a HEMA instructor by trade, and a Viking reenactor in my spare time, so I spend a lot of time in armor. More than the average person, for sure."

Historical European Martial Arts, the use of surviving medieval sources to recreate how armed combat would have been conducted during those times. Brian had heard of it before, and had a passing interest, but never met someone who was actually involved. He had a million questions, none of which seemed important.

While he was ruminating over all this, Ylva moved down a string. The cuirass became tighter with each loop she fastened. It didn't feel as though it would restrict his movement much, but the weight pressing against his chest made it notably harder to breathe.

Ylva made short work of the third string and moved on to the last two. As she tied them, Brian noticed the chest piece remained mostly the same level of tightness. Maybe he was wrong, but perhaps the double layer on the upper chest made it feel more constructive. Thankfully, there was someone in the room who would probably know the answer. Before he could ask, she finished tying.

"Alright, you can put your arms down, now," she said with a small step away. Brian did as he was told with a silent sigh as blood flowed back into his fingers. "I'll do the pauldrons, then move on to the rest."

The pauldrons went on quick. Each piece simply folded over a shoulder and fastened to the chest with two ties on each side, for a total of four each. Brian kept silent during this part, both because he had nothing to say, and also because there wasn't really time to make conversation.

When the shoulders were done, Ylva got down on one knee. Brian's heart leapt into his throat for a moment and he looked away from the girl kneeling in front of him. She leaned forward so her head was more level with his mid thigh and behind him, rather than in front.

The left shin guard went on, and Ylva got to work on it. There were only three strings in the back of these, so she'd probably be done in no time. All the better, really.

Silence threatened once again, which Brian found odd. Ylva came off as gung-ho back in the armory proper, so why was she quiet now? Maybe she was just focused on her task, but Brian didn't buy that. She had no problem with conversation while fastening the cuirass, and that was a much more complex task.

Which raised another question: Why even bother with all of this in the first place? Why go out of her way to help, when mostly everyone else was more concerned with themselves? Brian only helped Tiffany because she asked. Ylva offered her services without prompting, to the point where Brian thought she was an NPC for a second. There hadn't been a single mention of their situation from her, not even offhand, almost as if she didn't care. But, maybe there was more to it. Since she was trying to hard to help him, the least he could do was return the favor.

"Hey, Ylva," Brian began. "If you don't mind me saying, you're taking all of this really well."

"I don't mind," she said, and then sighed. "I don't know. The way I see it, this is either a dream or a dream come true. If it's a dream, then I'll wake up soon, no harm done. If it's not a dream, why would I ever want to wake up?"

"You don't want to go home?"

"Of course I do." Ylva finished with the right guard and moved on to the left. "At the same time, who hasn't wanted to live in their favorite fantasy world?"

"Something tells me Tiffany hasn't," Remarked Brian. They both had a chuckle at that.

Ylva continued. "I just think, if we're gonna be here anyway, and we've signed some magical contract or whatever, we might as well do our best. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think 'doing our best' means embracing the world as it is."

"Yeah, I think I understand that." Brian had been thinking mostly the same thing, so he saw where Ylva was coming from.

Ylva finished the last schynbald, gathered up the bracers, and stood. Without prompting, Brian held up his hands palm-down. Ylva flipped them to palm-up. She balanced a bracer on each and started with the right. When finished with both, she took a step to the opposite side of the stall. Brian fed his war hammer through a loop on his belt, then slung the heater shield over his back with the strap across his chest. With that last piece, his look was complete.

"Now _there's_ a proper warrior if I ever saw one," Ylva said with a smile.

Brian dug the holy symbol from behind his shirt. "Cleric, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know I was dealing with a holy man," Ylva joked. "Please forgive me."

"You are forgiven." Brian let the symbol fall against his armor.

"Bahamut is a good choice, though. If you're gonna serve a God, might as well go for the King of the Dragons," commented Ylva.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." That, and it was the only one he could find, but Brian left out that detail.

"So, are you ready to go back out, or do I need to convince you?"

"No I'm good," Brian said. "Lead the way."

"Gladly."

Ylva took point out of the changing stall. Brian fell in behind her, more ready than ever to join the Guild. Hopefully he was put in the same party as Ylva. Having an already experienced fighter on his side sounded like a massive advantage. Whatever happened, Brian felt as though he could face it with at least a modicum of pride. Amazing what a little armor could do.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Brian rolled a 17 on his investigation check when looking around the armory, so I allowed him to quickly decide what he wanted and locate them rather easily. Tiffany rolled a 12 on her persuasion check to get Brian to help her, though the DC wasn't very high. I was more interested in the small chance of him saying no. Brian rolled a 4 when offering to help Tiffany with her armor. I didn't make Ylva roll for her offer to Tiffany, but I did for her offer to Brian. She got a 15. I'm honestly not sure how I would've introduced Ylva if Brian had succeeded.**


	3. LFG

Upon reentering the armory proper, Brian noticed the people were overall much shinier than before. A majority of them either wore armor, or were in the process of putting it on. Perhaps seeing both Ylva and Tiffany spurred them into action. Whatever the reason, most sported some form of protection. There was a lot of leather and chain maille, two other people in scale, and one guy who wore the breastplate from a full harness.

There were a few weapons laying about as well. Just as Brian predicted, ranged weapons made up a large percentage of those who'd already chosen. Bows, crossbows, javelins, and even a sling, it seemed many people had the same line of thinking he originally did; the enemy can't hurt you is they never reach you. Though most hadn't chosen implements yet, the ranged trend could be expected to expand when they did.

When Brian and Ylva found Tiffany, she hadn't gone far. The blonde girl stood off to the opposite side of the miscellaneous table, more or less where they'd left her. She still refused to look at anyone, but at least her posture wasn't all buttoned up anymore.

"You see?" Ylva called as they approached. Tiffany looked at her with surprise. "That's how long it's supposed to take to get someone in their armor."

Tiffany said nothing as the two stopped within easy conversation distance. Her eyes gave Brian a quick top to bottom. Though he realized she were simply looking over his new attire, he still felt uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze.

"I just found out Brian, here, is a man of the cloth," Ylva continued.

"A what?" Tiffany asked.

"A cleric." Brian briefly held up his holy symbol. She shrugged and gave it a bewildered expression. "I'm a healer. When people get hurt, I use magic to heal them."

"Magic? Do you hear yourself right now? I mean, how's that supposed to _work?"_ Tiffany criticized.

"I don't know," Brian admitted. "That's part of the reason I went for a war cleric. If I can't use magic, then at least I can still hit stuff." He laid a hand on his hammer for emphasis.

"I don't think they would give us things like holy symbols if we couldn't use them," added Ylva. "I'm sure everything will work out."

"If you say so," Tiffany sighed.

Some time passed, though not as much as Brian would have assumed. He hung around with Tiffany and Ylva exchanging occasional conversation, most of which excluded the former, not on purpose, but because she showed little interest in speaking. Ylva's mostly upbeat nature made her easier to talk to. That, and Tiffany was still uncomfortable in her armor. Without that to hold her back, speech came easier to Ylva. Tiffany only offered her two cents every once in a while.

When they weren't talking, Brian took to observation. With each minute that passed by, the number of people kitted out in weapons and armor grew. Many wore pieces of armor instead of full suits, a cuirass here or some bracers there. Just as he'd predicted, there were a lot of ranged weapons. If they really were to be split into parties, it were entirely possible for a team to have no melee support at all. A squad of only wizards and rangers wouldn't last very long if the enemy got close.

What amazed Brian most about all these people was that none of them tried to run. There were still the same amount of people in the room right then as had entered in the first place. Far as he could tell, anyway. He thought for sure some would've slipped out in the commotion but none did. Maybe, like him, they were too scared. Maybe that fear, more than anything else, inspired them to don weapons and armor to go chase contracts.

Just when Brian began to think everyone looked more or less geared up to a reasonable extent, Edgar's voice boomed over the hall.

"It seems you all have chosen your equipment." Edgar stood at the far left wall. His voice was far too loud for normal projection. "If you have not chosen, then use the next few seconds wisely, for your time is up. Before the parties are formed, there is one last thing I must give you. Rejoice, this is a gift from the Meister himself."

Edgar held up both of his hands closed his eyes, and began to mutter an incantation. Several people reacted to this show. They assumed what looked to be ready stances and some even drew weapons. Ylva's hand flew to her sword, but she did not draw it. Brian attempted to brandish his own weapon. His sleeve got caught on one of his cuirass scales. He fumbled around trying to free it. When he finally did, frantic fingers fought for purchase on the weapon. They rolled around the head, traced the spike, and slipped down the sides. . He knew what he wanted to do but couldn't relay that message to his hands, which couldn't decide how best to grip the thing.

Edgar's chanting stopped. A wave of heat hit Brian. Like going outside on a humid summer day it slammed into him with such force he had to brace one foot behind him. A look at Ylva saw her in the same struggle. Tiffany had her face turned away and hands up as if trying to push the heat.

Soon as it came, the invisible force vanished. In its wake, Brian's mind clarified. His fingers set just below his hammer's head, lifted it from the belt loop, tossed it up, and caught the grip at the bottom before it could actually go anywhere. All of this happened so quickly, he'd barely been aware of himself doing it. Brian stared at the hammer with awe. It felt great in his hand, even better than before. His instincts flared with ways he could use it, possible attacks to unleash from that position.

"What did you do to me?" A woman cried out from the crowd. A general commotion followed her, too congested to make out much more than confusion and anger. Edgar put up a hand. Once again, the crowd fell silent, though Brian wondered if this time it was for fear of another spell.

"You have been granted the Gift of knowledge," he said. "You now have a basic understanding of your equipment and abilities. How you use them is up to you. But take heed, for this boon will only carry you so far. Practical skill and more advanced usage will come with time and practice. I suggest you spend some time training."

"Weird," Ylva commented to her group. "I don't feel any different."

"I will now begin the process if splitting you up into adventuring parties," Edgar continued. "You do have a choice in this matter. If there is anyone you would like to be grouped with, please stand with them now. I will assign members accordingly."

It took a while for people to get moving but once one did, the rest who wanted to set off as well. Not many of them went much of anywhere, though. Brian suspected most of them failed to make any sort of meaningful connection. Brian wouldn't have either, if not for the two girls who reached out to him.

"I might as well stick with you two. You seem like a good enough lot," said Ylva.

"I was thinking the same thing," Agreed Brian as he thanked Bahamut she decided to stick around.

Tiffany didn't say anything, but she also stayed put. She clearly didn't like either of her two companions, but the devil she knew was probably better than a bunch of complete strangers.

"So, are you planning to use that thing?" Ylva pointed at Brian. It took him a second to realize he still had his hammer out.

"Oh! No." For a second he expected to fumble around trying to fit the thing back in it's loop, but instead it slid right in without even glancing off one side. Probably just little bit of dumb luck. He doubted his ability to do that again on purpose.

"Don't be embarrassed," Ylva said. "I think most of us were a little spooked."

"Yeah," said Brian.

"We should probably separate from the crowd, though, just so Edgar knows we're together."

"That's a good point," Brian nodded. Ylva started off to her left and Brian followed a step behind. "Come on, Tiffany," he beckoned. The blonde girl hesitated a moment before falling in.

Ylva led them to a spot by the armor wall, behind the crowd and well apart from any congregation of people, organized or otherwise.

"So, Gift of Knowledge. What do you think that's about?" Brian asked as they came to a stop.

"I don't know," began Ylva. "He said it was supposed to let us use our weapons or something, but I don't feel any different. Do you?"

"I'm still a little warm from that spell or whatever it was, but I'm fine otherwise," Brian said.

"See, I don't even have that," argued Ylva. "How about you Tiffany?"

The girl didn't say anything at first, electing to stare at the ground instead of acknowledging them in any way. Just when Brian thought she'd continue ignoring them, she spoke.

"I don't know," Tiffany began. "I feel- I feel… _exposed,_ but not in an indecent way. It's more like _open_. I know there aren't any shadows or good hiding spots in this room, but I don't know _why_ I know that. I feel better now that we're closer to the wall, though, but I don't know why _that_ is, either."

"Maybe you're just nervous?" Brian suggested. Tiffany just shrugged.

"Whatever the reason, let's all be glad we're okay," said Ylva. Brian nodded, while Tiffany just looked away with her arms crossed.

"I will now begin the assignment of parties," Edgar's voice boomed over the room, drawing every eye to him. "I will begin by filling in the groups, starting with the group of two closest to me. When I call your name, please come and stand with your new party. The first member is: Marcus Esparza."

There was a pause throughout the armory. No one dared move an inch. Brian looked around for whoever this Marcus person was, but saw nothing. Not that he could blame him, of course. Brian probably wouldn't have wanted to move either, not when it meant drawing attention to himself. After what must've been about a minute, he finally caught a bit of motion to his right. A short-ish Latino man in his twenties walked across the room and joined up with the two other members of his team. They were now a trio of men.

"Atsuko Murasaki," announced Edgar. The wait this time was much shorter, just a few seconds. A young Asian woman joined the three men.

"That's one down," muttered Brian.

"Since the next group is four people, the only name I'll call is Rodger Davis," Edgar called. A middle-aged African-American man joined the team closest to Brian's. This man was the oldest of his accompaniment.

Brian felt his pulse pick up. If there were only three groups already chosen, and the first two were now filled, that left just his. This was it, then. After his team was formed, he'd be given a contract and UT on his way. It seemed so far away just minutes ago, but now that the moment was breathing down his neck, he wasn't ready. He remembered all of the reasons he didn't want to be a guildy, and all the reasons he had no choice.

"Anyone else nervous?" Ylva asked.

"Yeah," Brian said, and even Tiffany nodded. Though, Brian expected she'd been nervous for most of her time here.

"And now for the final group," Edgar announced. "The first name is Hector Alvarez."

Brian looked around for their new member. As the only person moving, he was easy to spot. It was the elderly Hispanic gentleman from earlier, the one who talked to the guards. He couldn't look more like a wizard f he tried, from the plain gray robes, to the long walking stick, to the massive tome hanging in its leather case at his right. His hair was even white, though balding instead of luxurious. He gave the three of them a warm smile as he approached.

"Hi, I'm Hector," he said, extending a hand to Brian.

"Brian," Returned the younger man. Hector moved down the line.

"Ylva," she said with a hardy handshake. Hector moved on again.

"Tiffany." She did not shake his hand.

"So," Hector let his hand fall, "looks like I'm your resident magic user."

Before anyone could respond, Edgar interrupted.

"The final name is, Calvin Roberts."

Again, Brian looked for his new teammate, who also wasn't hard to spot, but more for his size than anything else. Calvin was an overweight African-American fellow, wide without standing much more than six feet tall. He was clad head to toe in reddish leather, the shirt fastened with ornate bronze clasps shaped like rounded diamonds. Across his shoulders he held a massive kanabo, a long hexagonal head fitted with metal studs carved atop a much thinner round hilt long enough to accommodate four hands.

"Hi, I'm Hector," the older man said the moment their newest member was in easy earshot. He extended a hand.

"Calvin." He went down the line introducing himself with never more than a half-hearted handshake.

It wasn't until Calvin reached Brian did he realize just how young he was. Despite his considerable size, his face was that of a teenager. He couldn't have been any older than eighteen, _maybe_ twenty if he looked young for his age. That put him as the youngest member of the group and—in Brian's opinion—far too young for adventuring. The road was no place for someone who hadn't even finished school yet.

"I will now form the final two parties from those remaining unsorted," Edgar's voice boomed around the armory. Brian mostly tuned him out, not because he didn't care about the other parties, but because he had enough to worry about with just his own.

"Well, this is exciting," Hector said with a smile.

"Yeah, that's a word for it," snipped Tiffany.

"It's bullshit, is what it is," Calvin said.

"Look, I get it," Hector began. "You're all afraid, and confused. You want to go home, and I do too, but complaining isn't going to fix this. Maybe this is all real, maybe it isn't, but that doesn't matter. We're in it, now. I think the best thing we can do is go with it, and never stop looking for a way home."

"I basically said the same thing to Brian," added Ylva. "I want to go home and see my fiance, more than anything, but I also understand that just wanting to go home won't get me there. I think our best move is to just go with it, for now."

"Don't you think it's a bit early for speeches?" Tiffany raised an eyebrow.

"No, they're right," Calvin said, and then sighed. "I hate it, but they're right. This Edgar guy seems pretty powerful, and I don't even know if I know how to use this shit." He wiggled around his greatclub for emphasis. "I really don't wanna piss him off."

"What do you think, Brian?" Ylva asked.

Brian just starred at her a moment, stunned eyes wide with shock. He'd been so engrossed listening to the arguments from both sides, he sort of lost himself in the moment. Ylva addressing him directly was his call back to Earth—or Exandria, wherever they were. He genuinely hadn't expected to be called on, like the kid in class asked to answer a question he wasn't paying attention to. After the second of surprise passed, it turned to embarrassment.

"What? Oh, sorry." Brian looked away for a second to clear his head. "I kinda agree with both sides, really. I do think it's important to live in the moment. We're supposed to be the new members of some guild? Fine. He'll kill us if we refuse, anyway, so might as well give ourselves a fighting change. On the other hand, I agree with Tiffany that it's a bit too early for heroics. Lets see what we have to do, first, and then make the speeches."

"I can get behind that," Hector said with a huge smile.

"At least one of us is thinking kind of logically," Tiffany said without looking at anyone. Brian decided to take that as a backhanded compliment.

Conversation amongst them died away after that. For all the big words and grandeur, they were all still nervous and reluctant. Calvin hit on something when he said he wasn't sure if he knew how to use his weapon. Sure, Brian had that weird moment where he suddenly figured out the proper way to draw a warhammer, but who's to say that wasn't a fluke? How far did this _Gift of Knowledge_ really go?

Edgar picked up the pace a bit in assigning the final two groups, mostly because the ones who remained still unsorted were smart enough to figure out they were the final party. Looking at them all arrayed around the place, Brian realized something odd. The split between them was uneven. The first team had four people, while the last one had six. Why not five even teams? It baffled him. Edgar, for his part, gave none of them time to think about this or anything else.

"With the formation of the adventuring parties now completed," Edgar said, "I will hand each of you your first contract. There is no deadline for completion, but you must begin work on them within twenty-four hours.'

Chatter sprang up within the groups as Edgar walked toward the first he had formed. It was the most lively Brian had heard them since picking equipment, though the bar for that wasn't very high, since there had been rather little talking at that time. Edgar produced a scroll from out of his robe sleeve and handed it off.

"What do you think ours is gonna be?" Brian asked.

"Probably something with ye olde rats and goblins," offered Ylva. "That's what first quests always are."

"Let's hope it's nothing more serious," said Hector.

"Shit, as long as it ain't ghosts, I'm fine," Calvin said.

"There are ghosts?" Tiffany asked, looking around.

"I don't think that would be much of a problem," Ylva said. "We have a cleric."

"I don't think I know Turn Undead, yet," Brian said.

"Turn what?" Tiffany put a hand on her forehead. "I swear, it's like you guys are speaking a different language."

"Ooh, that's a good point," Ylva said. "I wonder if I know any other languages?"

"I always wondered what Giant was supposed to sound like," added Hector.

"Oh my God, I was fucking kidding," Tiffany said, one order of magnitude away from yelling.

"Aww, Tiff, I was just messing with you," Ylva said with a step closer to her. "I'll try to speak in plainer terms."

" _Tiff?_ Don't do that. We're not friends." Tiffany shut Ylva down post-haste. The shift on the Norwegian's face was palpable, a sad slacking as if she'd been slapped.

"Uh... guys?" Brian hated to interrupt, but Edgar was approaching them. He pointed. The party followed his gaze, and instantly shut up. Each of them turned their full attentions to Edgar. Unconsciously, Brian put a hand on his hammer's head. He hoped his new companions had similar thoughts.

"What do you have for us, Edgar?" Hector took a step toward the ancient man and asked.

"Something befit of your station," Edgar answered. He produced a scroll from his sleeve. "Old Mrs. Isalda is having trouble with rats in her basement again. This is the third time. The Crownsguard are tired of dealing with her, so they hired us to do it for them."

"Working for the Empire already? You must really trust us." Hector quipped as he took the scroll. Edgar said nothing, only tightened his jaw slightly at the jest.

"Where can we find Isalda?" Ylva came to the rescue.

"All relevant information can be found within the scroll." With that Edgar moved on to the next group.

"Well, _he's_ in a chipper mood," Ylva joked.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Calvin asked.

"He said we have a full day to get started. Why not get some rest?" Brian suggested.

"It's still daylight out," countered Ylva.

"The longer we wait on this, the less we'll want to do it. I say we just go now," Hector said.

"This may sound weird, but I actually agree," Tiffany said. She drew shocked and confused looks from the rest of her party. Her face colored at the attention, and she recoiled slightly into herself, but pushed on anyway. "None of us want to do this, right? But, if we don't, there'll be consequences. We might as well get it over with soon as possible."

"That's what I'm saying," Ylva agreed.

"Me, too." Calvin added, even though he hadn't actually voiced an opinion yet.

"It's settled, then. We can read this on the way." Hector led the way out of the chamber, and back up the stairs they had all come down to reach the armory.

Brian didn't really mind being outvoted. The suggestion to sleep had been more for his own exhaustion, than anything else. He was always tired, though, so it probably wouldn't hinder him much. Despite the fear in his heart, the dread at whatever action may come, and the longing to go home, Brian was a bit excited. He always dreamed of going on an adventure like Bilbo or Peter Pevensie. Now he had the chace to do just that, though not in the way he may have expected.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Not much rolling again. I gave Hector advantage on his persuasion check during his speech, since Ylva agreed with him. He rolled a 17, which missed the DC by one, so I allowed him to convince only Calvin, and not Tiffany. Hector then rolled a 9 (NEIN) in his little joke about working for the Empire. There was no save against the Gift of Knowledge.**

 **Not D &D related, but there's and Achievement Hunter reference hidden in this chapter. Can you find it?**


	4. To Wander

"It says here Mrs. Isalda's house is just outside the market district," Ylva said. Second in line from Hector, she held the scroll out in front of her with both hands, eyes pouring over its contents.

"Market district, huh? Where's _that_ supposed to be?" Calvin said from behind her.

"I have no idea."

"I wish I remembered Matt's description of this place." Brian looked around Calvin's shoulder to address Ylva, who remained glued to the scroll.

"Who's Matt?" Tiffany asked from her spot at the back of the train.

"Basically God," Ylva said.

"...I can't tell if you're kidding," Tiffany said after a moment.

"I am," Ylva said.

They walked in a single file line down what Brian assumed was a back road. Buildings dotted the landscape on both sides of the narrow street, constructions of mostly wood and stone, the majority of them in decent condition. They were unlabeled and plain, which led him to believe this to be sort of residential district.

Some had awnings, and some didn't. A few had glass in their windows, though most relied on shutters to keep the heat in. Brian looked in a few open windows whenever his curiosity overrode his sense of decency. He saw a portly woman stirring a big iron pot. He saw a gruff looking grey hound sitting on a bed, patiently awaiting the return of its master. Through one window a short, stout man shined a withering pair of black shoes. In another, a pretty young girl strummed idly at a harp. In another still, a man sorted fruit in his larder, discarding a black marked orange.

It had rained recently, within the past day or two. Pockets of mud sprung up from the dirt road, at random intervals, though it was mostly dry dust. Brian noticed it sticking to the scales on his schynbalds and getting caught in the folds. He'd always wanted to wear armor, and it annoyed him that it was already dirty. It would need a proper cleaning later. Gear maintenance, something he never considered as a normal player before. There were probably a lot of things he never thought of in regards to high-fantasy living.

There were occasional distant voices, the barking of a dog, a crow that wouldn't shut up. The squeaking of a wheel became ever louder as it approached them. A mule pulled a cart, mostly empty save for a few left over vegetables and sacks of grain. A man sat at the head of it, reins held steady as he looked ahead. Short and rough with a long black beard, he was handsome in his middle-age. Brian's nerd brain recognized him as a pretty stereotypical dwarf.

The adventuring party moved to one side so the cart could pass. Hector and the dwarf shared a nod as it did. Tiffany followed the cart with a crane of her neck. She looked at it until it passed by the crest of the road's slight curve. When it disappeared, she snapped her vision back forward and met Brian's eyes with a confused stare.

"Was he—"

"Super short?" Brian finished for her. "Yeah."

"So that's an elf, and now a dwarf," recounted Ylva. "Think we'll see a gnome pretty soon?"

"Only if we ever get out to Hupperdook," Hector said. Both Brian and Calvin snickered at the funny word.

"Hupper- _what_?" Tiffany asked.

"It's a place on the map, known for its high gnome population," Hector explained.

"And how do you... oh, right. This world is based on a podcast, or something," Tiffany answered her own question. Brian wanted to correct her, but since she was technically correct—and he had bigger things to worry about—he let the misattribution slide.

The party wandered on for about fifteen minutes more. Or, as far as Brian could tell. He honestly didn't know how long they walked. It must have been later than he thought, because the sun just barely began to set. Hues of yellow and orange and red streaked across the sky.

The scenery changed little. The five passed through a courtyard at one point, where they saw a great many more people. Most traveled alone or in groups no larger than three. There were a couple shops hawking merchandise at the passersby. One of them sold jewelry, another appeared to be a grocer. Light crowds congregated at each. Brian scanned the people as they passed. He saw plenty of humans, and short fellows he assumed were halflings, but no gnomes.

Hector led them straight ahead. The street here was wider and lined with cobblestone. More people milled about, most of them on their ways to individual destinations. A few open doors indicated places of business, and a violin played a jaunty tune somewhere far in the distance. It appeared as though they'd passed into a wealthier part of town.

"This is stupid," Calvin explained. "None of us have the slightest idea where we're going."

"Why don't we ask for directions? Maybe someone knows her, or can point us in the right direction," Ylva proposed.

"I was about to suggest that," Hector agreed.

They walked for about a minute more when two Crownsguard approached from the opposite direction. Both were men, one taller than the other, decked out in their brass scale armor and deep red tunics. One had a sword and kite shield emblazoned with a crown-wearing iron cross atop a red X with sections colored black and brown. The other had a greatsword on his back.

"Excuse me, sirs," Hector said. The guards stopped to consider him. "I hate to bother you, but my companions and I are looking for the residence of an Isalda. Could we you maybe point us in the right direction?"

One of the guards looked over the party. "You from the Guild?"

"What gave it away? Was it the swords or the armor?" Ylva joked, moving to join in with the rest in tow.

"The fact that you're asking about Isalda," chimed the other guard.

"You must be the sods who got assigned to deal with her rat problem," said the first.

"We are," confirmed Hector. "Our quartermaster said something that suggested she'd had this problem before?"

"This is the third time," said the first guard. "Frankly, we can't afford to waste time on it anymore. With all the trouble the traders bring into town, we have our hands full."

"Any idea why she keeps having rats?" Asked Brian.

"Not the foggiest, I'm afraid," the second guard answered. "The house isn't dirty, or anything, and her job isn't one that would draw rats."

"Do you think someone is planting them there?" Brian continued.

The second guard shrugged. "Could be."

"Well, we won't know until we get there," Hector said.

"Right, directions. Did you pass through the courtyard on your way here?" The first guard began.

"We did," nodded Hector.

"Okay, go back that way and turn left in the courtyard. Take the main road and follow it a ways until you reach Broadtusk Barrelry. Take the dirt road just before it. About halfway down is Isalda's house. It'll be the one with a J-shaped notch on the crossbeam."

"Thank you both so much. You've saved us a lot of trouble," Hector said.

"Of course, guildsman," said the first guard. "Good luck with the rats."

'Thank you. Stay safe on your patrol."

"Thanks."

With that, they parted ways. The guards turned heel and went back the way they came, probably to avoid that awkward moment when you've said goodbye to someone but keep walking in the same direction.

"Well, that settles that, then," Ylva said.

"Come on, lets get going," Hector said. "We're lost enough during the day, I don't want to try finding this place at night."

Hector began back down the street. Everyone fell in behind him in the same order they had been before stopping. Brian felt a lot better about this stage of the quest now that he knew how to get where they were going.

"What was the name of that place we're supposed to find, again? Wild Boar Bakery, or something?" Calvin asked after a moment.

"I don't remember," Brian said. "It had a weird name, though."

"Broadtusk Barrelry," Tiffany said. "Seriously, are all men bad with directions? I don't know what a _barrelry_ is, though."

"It sounds like a cooper," Ylva said with a glance behind. When Tiffany gave her a confused look she elaborated, "someone who makes barrels. Having said that, I don't think _barrelry_ is a word. But this is my second language, so what do I know?"

The party pressed forward on their newly acquired directions. There were even more people about, now, as the work day came to an end with the sun gradually lowering in the sky. The crowd as mostly human and halfling, with a few dwarves and elves thrown into the mix. No gnomes, but such a short people would be easy to miss in the throng.

Sounds of revelry spilled out from scattered taverns, or people palling around after work, or a particularly drunken dice game Brian observed in an alleyway. Trostenwald, while still a lazy old town, seemed to become much more alive at dusk when the people were left to their own devices. Brian's own office job was tiring enough. He hated to think how exhausting the backbreaking manual labor most of these people probably did could be, and how much they must've needed a release.

Sticking to the cobblestones, Hector led the party left through the courtyard. It was markedly quieter on this street, fewer people and less music. Brian tried to think of why that may be, but came up with nothing. Perhaps it was a lack of businesses, thus creating fewer workers to mill about after hours? All of the buildings kind of looked the same, so it was impossible to tell.

Eventually, they reached a square sign hanging from a structure almost completely of stone. The words "Broadtusk Barrelry" were painted on it in broad stroked black ink, while a picture of a barrel had been painted beneath them. Ylva was right.

They went right, down the dirt road just before it. This passage was so narrow, anyone coming from the other side would have to squeeze by. It curved gently to the right. Buildings cloistered around both sides of it. Even Brian, used to the concrete jungle of New York, found the space somewhat claustrophobic.

The road seemed endless, a feeling perpetuated by the identical structures on either side. They walked on for what felt like forever, yet never made any real progress. Brian wondered if they made a wrong turn somewhere, but if they had, how would they get back on the right rack? He didn't want to be lost in a fantasy world. That sounded horrible. He was about to suggest asking for directions again, when something caught the corner of his eye.

"Hey, wait," he called out. The rest of the party stopped. "Is this the place?"

The four gathered around him, each starring up at the house he stood before. It was a simple place, stone framed by light wood, two windows bordering a slim door, one story with a peaked roof.

"J-shaped notch in the crossbeam," Ylva said. "This must be it."

"So, what, do we knock or something" Calvin asked.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think these people have invented the doorbell yet," Ylva joked.

"What if she's not home?" Tiffany brought up an excellent point. Isalda very well could've been out with friends, just like it seemed the majority of people were.

While the three of them were having this little discussion, Hector walked up and knocked on the door. His three sharp rasps brought a deafening silence to them. He took a step back. For several agonizing seconds, there was nothing. Brian always hated this part about visiting someone, the moment where you don't know of they're going to answer the door or not. Thankfully, he needn't wait long. The door creaked open just enough for whoever was inside to speak out.

"Yes?" Asked a slightly accented female voice.

"Are you Isalda?" Began Hector.

"Who wants to know?"

"We're with the Adventurer's Guild, here about your rat problem."

A moment's hesitation and the door opened all the way. Isalda was a middle-aged halfling woman, her mousy brown hair in a braid over one shoulder, green eyes bright, if suspicious. She wore a red vest atop a white blouse, tan trousers, and canvas shoes on her feet. She gave each party member a scrutinizing.

"Can I see the contract," Isalda asked, "just to make sure you aren't a bunch of robbers?" Ylva handed the scroll over. Isalda inspected it. "That's the Guild seal, alright. Come on in, then." Isalda stood aside and bade them entry. The party filed in one at a time.

The front door spilled into the living area. A fireplace took up about half of the right wall. Placed before it was a purple cushioned chair with a green book resting in it. Across from the fireplace, a small and sparse bookshelf leaned against the opposite wall. In the far left corner, some unfinished needlework on a damaged pair of pants lay atop a small table. At the far end wall with an empty spot for a door led to what looked like a kitchen.

"The basement is through here," Isalda said as she led them toward the kitchen.

"This is a lovely home," Ylva said, looking around.

"Thank you. It's not much, but I do what I can," Isalda said.

"Anything you can tell us about the rats in your basement?" Brian asked.

"They're rats. In the basement," answered Isalda. "Not much else to tell."

"Just to clarify, when you say rats do you mean little assholes or…" Calvin trailed off.

"They're giant rats."

" _God_ dammit."

The kitchen was exactly the same size as the living room. A square table with four chairs—one at each side—dominated the room. Half of the far and right walls were taken up by a counter and cupboards which wrapped around the corner. A cast iron stove sat against the right wall. Several cooking implements hung from hooks in a fixture on the ceiling. There was a door a little separated from the stove, and another in the far right corner. Isalda stood before this latter entry.

"The basement is right down here. A bit cramped for five people, but I'm sure you'll manage," she said.

"And the rats are down there?" Brian asked, and immediately felt stupid for doing so.

"Usually, though I admit I haven't gone down lately to check.'

"And that's perfectly understandable," Hector said. "I say we get down there and deal with this quick as possible. No time like the present."

"I'll lead the way." Ylva pushed past Hector and the homeowner. She put her hand on the door. "Everyone ready?"

Brian and Hector nodded. Tiffany looked away. Calvin didn't do anything. Whether those last two voted now or not, they'd both agreed to come this far. And, they were outvoted, if that sort of thing even mattered right then. With an affirmative nod of her own, Ylva opened the door.

The stairs descended at a right angle, instead of straight ahead from the door. Ylva, Hector, Brian, Calvin, and Tiffany climbed down them into the depths. It was notably colder in the underground space, and just a bit musty. It smelled of old dust and wood. Brian hoped that didn't mean the structure was compromised. Something told him they wouldn't get paid if the house came crashing down around them.

All in all, it didn't seem that bad until Isalda closed the door behind them. What little light poured in from the upper floor snuffed out, bathing the entire room in blackness. The party stopped in their tracks, Ylva the only one at the bottom already.

"Guys...?" Tiffany's voice shook.

"I can't see shit." Calvin took a more direct approach to expressing his distress.

"Hold on, I might actually be able to help with that," Hector said.

From behind him, Brian barely noticed the rough outline of Hector reach into his robes and pull something out. It was small and non-reflective of the little light in the room.

"Now, how did it go?" Hector whispered.

The old man mumbled something under his breath then touched the top of his staff. It erupted in a bright white light, illuminating instantly the stairs they were standing on, as well as the basement to their left. Brian looked away for the sudden, searing pain in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, a desperate attempt to shrink the purple spot in his vision.

"Huh, would you look at that," Hector said, admiring his handiwork.

"Great job, Hector," Ylva praised from the bottom of the stairs. "Come on, lets get to work."

They all descended to the dirt floor and fanned out to search the basement. Brian couldn't speak for everyone, but now that he was here, he couldn't wait to start his first real quest.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Oh boy, I did** _ **not**_ **want to end here. I didn't want to have four chapters ina row without any action. But, there's no way I can put the climax and resolution of this quest in few enough words to fit in this chapter, not without making it double the length it already is. That's simply too long. So, see what happens in chapter 5, and remember any combat which takes place will be conducted on my end with a battlemap and dice rolls, just like a game of D &D. I will then flavor that into battle choreography. I promise not to fudge the results. If someone dies in this first encounter, then so be it.**

 **Only two rolls in this one. All of them rolled to see who would locate Isalda's house. Brian had the highest, with 7. Calvin, Ylva, and Tiffany all had natural 1s. Hector rolled a 4.**

 **Ylva rolled when complimenting Isalda's house to see if Isalda took it as a pleasantry or saw through the bluff. She rolled a natural 18.**


	5. First Blood

Hard packed dirt crinkled underneath Brian's scalemail boots as he hit the bottom stair in Isalda's basement. He took a step away so Tiffany behind him could shuffle past. She didn't go far, though, coming to sit upon a pair of crates against the right wall a few feet away. Brian couldn't tell if it was indifference or that she simply had no idea what to do, which inspired Tiffany to lean back and cross her arms. He suspected a little bit of both.

The basement was pretty small spartan, just like the rest of Isalda's home. She hadn't been kidding when she called it _cramped_. Brian could probably cross it in just six steps. The only decorations were a pair of dark wood barrels against the far wall, one against it next to one in the left corner.

Isalda clearly lived a simple life, which Brian respected on several levels. Often times, he found his modern life a bit too complex, too fast. He cared so much about surviving in the city, he forgot to live in it. If the internet were any indication, many people felt the same way. Perhaps living in Exandria could cure him of that.

Strange, the things he thought about when trying to focus, almost as if his brain rejected his current situation. Trapped in a fictional world looking for giant rats in a halfling's basement. Yeah, it sounded pretty ridiculous. As much as he wanted to live in the moment, he also felt tempted to rebel against the notion entirely. Maybe, in that way, Tiffany had the right idea.

Brian observed the rest of his party. Hector immediately placed himself under the stairs to start looking around. He jabbed the darkest corners underneath the bottom step with his walking staff. There was a deliberateness to his motions. Brian had a feeling this wasn't his first time dealing with vermin.

In stark contrast, Calvin went to the left side of the room, about halfway up the wall. He scanned the floor the entire time, as if he expected to suddenly find a giant rat. Had the room been dark, Brian would've understood looking down, but it wasn't. A rat wouldn't just pop out of the ground. ...Unless they burrowed. Did rats burrow, or was that weasels? He couldn't remember.

Ylva went over to the right hand corner and began looking. She also didn't seem to really have an idea of what she was doing. That made perfect sense to Brian. If she really were from somewhere in northern Europe as her accent suggested, then she maybe hadn't ever seen a rat. Brian had never heard of someone from Norway having a pest problem of any sort. Bears, maybe, but not pests.

Though, he really was in no position to argue. He was from New York, true, but the infamous rat problem in that city had never effected him before. He'd lived in apartments all his life, and never on the first floor. Contrary to popular belief, apartment buildings rarely had this sort of infestation. Rats, skittish by nature, weren't necessarily compelled to spend much time around all those people all the time. The only ones he'd ever seen were hanging out in alleyways. He hadn't the first idea how to find them in a basement. He liked what Hector was on about, though. A second set of eyes on the stairs might do them some good. He set about with that in mind, going again over where Hector had already looked.

The investigation continued on like that for a while. No one really moved far away from their self-designated searching areas. Brian didn't mind this, though. He thought they had the room pretty well covered. Even Tiffany, from her perch, had both good vision on a spot no one else was looking in, but also optics on where Calvin and Ylva were. Without even meaning to, she'd managed to put herself in a decent spot. So, Brian kept looking around and underneath the stairs.

Dirt floor made searching a bit more difficult. If he could walk on it with _his_ weight without making any sort of mark, then he imagined rats in any form managed the same. He knew not what rat tracks looked like, but any hint at all would be better than the rank nothing he had to go on. The others were probably having the same difficulty.

"You guys find anything yet?' Ylva called from her spot.

"Nothing," Brian said.

"No, not yet," Hector said at almost the same time.

There was silence for a few beats while the search continued. Ylva went over to the barrels to give them a look. That was where Brian suspected their targets would be if not under the stairs. When Ylva walked away with a shake of her head, however, Brian felt her disappointment in himself as well. This was harder than he expected.

"So, I still got a few coins left from all that armory bullshit," Calvin said. "Three of them say there's nothing down here."

"I'll take that action," Ylva said, squatting down to take a better look in the corner she'd been starring at for the past ten minutes.

"Come on, guys," Hector said. "I don't think Isalda would bother trying to hire the guards if there wasn't anything down here."

"I don't know, the cops we talked to seemed pretty done with her. Maybe that's because she keeps leading them on wild goose chases," Calvin said.

"She doesn't strike me as the sort," Brian began, "but I see where you're coming from."

"Well, that would be an easy first quest, if nothing else," Ylva said.

"I'd like that," Calvin said. "I don't have to get my new suit dirty, I don't have to do shit. I can just kick back and drink whatever's in those barrels."

"I'm pretty sure those are grain barrels. Ale barrels have a smell to them, according to my bartender fiance," Ylva said.

"I'll make bread, then. Not like I don't got time," Calvin said.

"If you have time to make bread, then you have time to look," Hector said, his voice perhaps louder than necessary. "We have a job, and we need to do it. If that means there's nothing here, then we need to be absolutely sure."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Calvin went back to looking at the ground. "Old-ass bitch," he said much quieter, but still loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Both Brian and Ylva looked at him with surprised, disgusted expressions. Hector, for his part, kept looking as if he hadn't heard. Brian wanted to say something, and—by the way her hand tightened into a fist—Ylva wanted to as well. But, Brian understood to start a fight now would potentially rip them apart when they were supposed to be teammates. Ylva seemingly came to a similar conclusion, for she went back to checking the corner, this time on her feet.

A heavy silence fell upon the party. Calvin's sudden and unnecessary violence put a damper on their slowly rising spirits. Now, when Brian looked around the bottom stair, his heart wasn't in it. He went back over the same spot three times because he couldn't remember what he just saw there. Maybe Calvin was right. Maybe there wasn't anything to see.

A scream. It echoed around the stone walls, piercing Brian's eardrums, loud enough to disorient him. The sound of something hitting the ground brought him back into the moment. He looked at the source of the commotion to see Tiffany flat on her butt, reeling back across the dirt. An alarming sight, but not nearly so much as the giant rat—vermin the size of a corgi—which jumped down from the crate next to where she had been sitting. It slowly advanced on Tiffany, who scrabbled uselessly at the hard earth. Her hands and feet scraped against the dirt, but rarely found purchase. Despite her flailing, she only moved a few inches away from her assailant.

"What the fuck is that?" Calvin shouted.

"Giant rat!" Ylva cried.

"Tiffany, you have to move," Hector said. She did nothing except sit there while tears streamed down her face. "Tiffany!"

Brian put up his hand, a motion which felt strangely automatic, as if he weren't the one moving. His other appendage grabbed the holy symbol at his neck. A intense heat rose up from inside him, emanating from his heart to flow outward. It collected in his outstretched hand, the burning both pleasant and terrible. Then, it was gone.

In the same moment the sensation disappeared, the rat burst into flames. It let out a hideous cry as matted fur went up in orange and black. It's muscles locked up. It's tail twitched. The thing likely wanted to move, but couldn't bring itself to amongst the agony.

"What the _fuck_ happened?" Calvin continued to provide commentary.

"How did you do that?" Hector said from Brian's left shoulder.

"I... I don't know," Brian stuttered.

He looked at the palm of his hand, breaths deep and eyes wide. What the fuck, indeed. Did he really just do that? Did he really just use magic? But how, and what was that heat? Could he do it again if the need arose?

A blur of motion, one final squeak, and the awful screeching stopped. Ylva stood next to Tiffany, her sword impaled through the rat, red on the little bit of metal which poked out. The rat squirmed for a second, then fell limp. Ylva stepped up to it. She held it down with one foot to extract her blade. It dripped a few thick drops.

"Holy shit," Calvin breathed.

"Alright, everyone—" Hector began.

"Holy shit!" Calvin continued.

"Calvin, please—"

"You fucking killed it! You stabbed it in the heart!"

"I think I hit a lung, actually," Ylva said.

"That's not the point!"

"I know we're all a little bit freaked out, but panicking won't solve anything," Hector said.

"I agree," echoed Brian. "We should all just stay calm, and—"

Another scream cut him off. He looked at Tiffany to find her pointing to a spot straight ahead of her. Following her indication brought his gaze upon another giant rat, this one fatter than the first, emerging from the shadowy corner right next to him. Had it been there the whole time?

"More over here!" Ylva called out.

Two giant rats appeared from the far right corner, while another climbed up from behind the barrels.

"Under the stairs!" Hector yelled.

One appeared from beneath the apex of the stairs, almost right under the door. Another came out right next to Brian at the base. Six in total.

"What do we do?" Calvin backed up against the left wall.

"Spread out, don't clump up," warned Brian. "We'll just make ourselves bigger targets." He drew his shield and warhammer, motions which felt far too natural in his hands. Beyond that, he rooted in place.

"No, _do_ clump up! Don't let them flank us!" Ylva countered with the exact opposite advice.

Tiffany, clearly overwhelmed by the current situation, put both hands on her head and sunk back against the crate she'd been sitting on, knees pulled to her chest. Tears continued to stain her cheeks.

Ylva took a survey of the battlefield. Three of her companions were completely stationary as the monstrous rodents closed in, one of whom wasn't even trying to fight. Hector was fiddling with his spellbook, which wasn't bad, but also didn't help. They were Dungeons and Dragons players, sure, but that meant nothing in the real world. Ylva realized her years of martial arts and reenactment made her the only one in the group with practical combat experience. If that meant the burden of winning this fight fell to her, then so be it. She drew her shield and, with a warcry on her breath, charged forward.

The charge put her right up against the rat in the far corner ahead of her, with the other one that way to her left. She pinned the one before her into the corner with her boot, then brought her sword down through its skull. The thing died before its body went limp. The rat to her left attempted a bite, but sharp teeth scraped against only the wood of Ylva's shield.

The rat atop the barrels leapt down and charged at Calvin. Spurred on by this sudden show of aggression., Calvin drew the kanabo from his back. The rat jumped at him, seeming to aim somewhere at his midsection. Sheer panic took over. Calvin closed his eyes and let loose a wild baseball swing. He felt his club catch on something in midair, heard as both it and a wet slap made contact with the wall next to him. He opened his eyes to see the bloody and broken form of a rat tumble to the ground, motionless.

There was little time to celebrate, however. The rat under the apex of the stairs ran up behind him. Calvin heard more than saw it. The thing hissed and bit at his ankle. Calvin lifted his foot. The teeth clacked together on air and disappointment. He turned to face his new foe.

Tiffany, with murderous beasts all around and her new forced companions engaged in mortal combat, completely broke down. Every fiber of her being screamed out for her to get up, to run or to fight, to be useful to the only people she had in this world. But she couldn't. Faced with the terror and uncertainty coursing through her veins, Tiffany just sat there and cried.

Even while the others fought for their lives, her body refused to listen. Even when the rat in the corner scurried up to her, she was motionless still. She felt teeth sink into her calf. The blonde screamed out in pain. Instinct told her to shake her leg about frantically. Yet, the beast held firm. Every flail sent agonizing jolts through her. Tiffany brought her leg as far across her body as possible and gave a great heave. The rat dislodged, but not before raking its horrible teeth through her flesh. It landed about five feet away, swallowing what morsel it managed to acquire.

Hector was immediately alarmed by a third scream from Tiffany. He turned to see her flailing around. That was his cue to spring into action. He moved to a spot near the center of the room, offset by a few feet, to get a good shot. Tiffany cast aside her enemy as red blood dripped from her wounded leg.

The wizard took one last glance at his spellbook. With his walking stick he drew an asterisk in the air and circumscribed it. The incantation came to his breath, a command in Sylvan. Ice blue mist ringed the light on his staff as he pointed it toward the rat assailing Tiffany. The same mist took her rat. The flesh on its hind quarters shrunk and blackened beneath the dying fur. It cried and hissed, but though with a hobble, it continued inching toward the girl. Hector cursed under his breath, this time speaking Spanish.

Brian also wanted to help Tiffany. He took a step toward her, but the rat beneath the base of the stairs skittered around to block his Path. With an annoyed grunt, he swung his hammer down at it. The weapon caught the creature in the front left leg, but with nowhere near the force he would've hoped. He gathered his strength to come around for a second strike. This time, the rat pasted itself to the ground just low enough for the hammer to pass harmlessly overhead.

The rodent had no trouble finding power. It jumped up at him. Long whiskers allowed it to find a spot above Brian's armored shins. Jaws bit down deep into the human's right thigh. Brian coudln't even scream out for how the agony paralyzed him. The teeth made a clean cut. The rat fell back to the ground, dripping flesh in its maw. Brian felt blood pour down his leg, soaking his blue jeans in red turned purple. The edges of his vision went dark, closing in before they refocused. It was a fight to stay on his feet.

Ylva put her shield low to stop the rat to her left from harassing her. After failing to bite through the barrier once, it hesitated at trying to do so again. The creature was smart enough to know it couldn't hurt he shield, but not to figure a way around it. This momentary pause was all the opening Ylva needed. She lifted her shield, turned her body, and swept up with her sword. The blade caught the rat just below the ribs. The thing uprooted from the ground, flying through the air to impact the opposite wall. It bounced to the floor, nearly in twain.

Calvin spun on the rat behind him, a surprisingly graceful pirouette for someone his size. He raised his greatclub so high it angled down his back, then brought it to bear upon the creature. It squished much like a large insect might, with a spray of blood and legs splayed out. The sickening crunch echoed around the room. Calvin just stood there for a second, club down and dripping. He was terrified of what he might find beneath it.

Tiffany focused on the rat which bit her. She looked it in the eyes. Bits of skin and denim made a tangled mess of its front teeth. Her blood fell from those hideous lips. She still felt fear, but a deep rage bubbled up in her heart. This was very real. The danger was real. She had to do something.

She looked over at Brian, at the red now beginning to seep from beneath his jeans. She'd never seen that much blood before, even when her dad brought her hunting. Guns killed quickly and left rather small wounds that the tight skin of an animal did a good job closing up. These sorts of wide gashes offered no such solace.

In looking at Brian, his words came to mind. _Two daggers, unless something happened to the first_. She didn't even think. Tiffany drew one of her daggers and lunged for the rat, even as pain shot up her own injured leg. Her blade found the thing's neck to plunge almost hilt deep into its chest. It squeaked, and was no more.

Tiffany let go of the weapon. It remained in the rat. She faded away from it, staring at where the blade rent flesh. She'd never killed something so up close before.

Hector paled at the sight of Brian, of how he swayed on his feet. The old wizard drew another asterisk in the air, circled it, and thrust his staff forward. Much like with the first creature he hit, the rat attacking Brian blackened and withered, but did not die.

Brian took a swing at his enemy. He regretted it instantly. Every inch of him hurt as pain ebbed from his wound. His breaths came in heavy rasps. The strike went wide. The grip on his weapon faltered. The will of whatever god watched over this battle kept it in his grasp. But no god's will could save him.

The rat lunged. It found a spot on Brian's other leg, just below his knee. It was another clean cut as the rat tore a chunk and fell back down. The pain was unbearable. He lost too much blood. The light left the room as his consciousness faded. He collapsed.

The room fell silent. The only sound was that of metal scales hitting the floor. Everyone turned the same aghast expression to the scene laid out before them: Brian, bleeding out on the floor while a victorious animal stood over him. In the horror of that moment, they were powerless to help, all of them but one.

"Brian!" Ylva screamed.

The _shieldmaiden_ sprinted across the floor. The final remaining rat looked over just in time to see a blade connect with its ribs. The only thing that stopped Ylva's charge was the wall. She collided shield-first with it. The rat, carried along with her sword, pressed against the rock structure. This allowed the blade to pass clean through. The beast fell in two pieces.

"Oh, shit." Calvin said what they were all thinking.

Ylva dropped both her sword and shield where she stood. Both hands worked frantically at untying the pouch and her side to draw out a little glass bottle filled with red liquid.

"Not yet, you lanky bastard." With one hand, Ylva rolled Brian over on his back. She uncorked the bottle and shoved it in his mouth. Some of the contents drained out, but not enough. A hand behind his head tilted it forward. His throat now open, the red water poured down it. Ylva held it there until every last drop found his gullet.

A heartbeat passed. Another. _Another_. Seconds ran into each other in the agonizing moments where nothing happened.

"Is he..." Tiffany said.

"I don't know," Ylva shook her head.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Calvin asked anyway.

"I don't know!" Ylva shouted, despite herself. "Lets—"

Brian coughed and spluttered. His eyes flew open. The blinding light assaulted his eyes, which ached as if they were looking at the sun. Strange, he didn't remember staring at the ceiling. He didn't remember laying down, either. And why did his mouth taste like he'd just been chewing on a bunch of pennies while chugging whole milk?

"Brian?" A woman with an adorable accent all but whispered his name. Wait, he _knew_ that voice.

"Ylva?" He tried to sit up. His head throbbed a little, but other than a bit of dizziness, he felt mostly fine.

"Easy, now." Ylva knelt down. One hand on his chest, and the other on his back, guided him up. Brian looked into those gentle green eyes full of concern, and for a second his head didn't hurt anymore.

"What happened?"

"You went down," Ylva explained. "You took a few big hits, then you passed out. I gave you a healing potion, and I guessed it worked."

"Healing potion?" Brian wondered aloud.

Memory came crashing back to him. He remembered the investigation of Isalda's basement, the ensuing fight, the pair of blows that put him out. Frantically, he grabbed at his jeans. The holes where the bites found purchase were there, along with the blood he'd spilled, but within the rips he found not a grizzly set of wounds. Instead, the skin was smooth and healthier than it had been in years.

"Well, I guess we know those work, at least." Bereft of any other way to cope, Brian deflected with humor.

"Yeah, I guess we do," Ylva chuckled. Brian knew it to be a pity laugh, but he didn't care.

"Someone had to be the first to test them," he carried on. "Sucks it was me, though."

He and Ylva shared a little laugh. Brian didn't care how awkward and uncomfortable it was. He needed something, _anything_ to make him forget the horror he'd just witnessed.

He heard someone behind him grind against the wall as they slumped to the floor.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm _beat_ ,' Calvin said.

"Yes, I think we could all use a short rest," Hector said. "Lets wait here for a few minutes before going back up." Hector was the first to follow his own order by sitting down in the middle of the floor.

Ylva sat with her back to the wall next to the bottom step. Brian could feel her eyes on him like a hawk. She obviously doubted he was really okay and wanted to keep a watch on him. In honesty, he wasn't sure if he'd healed up fully, either. He felt fine, and any pain he had before faded away, but did that really mean he was alright?

Beyond that, someone else in the group was clearly _not_ okay. Tiffany pressed herself against her crate, hugging her knees. She wiped a drying tears from her face. What drew Brian's attention to her, though, was the blood still coming from her shin.

Brian hesitated to approach her, since she didn't seem to like him much, but that reluctance lasted only a blink. He was the cleric. It was his job to heal. Besides, it wasn't fair for him to get so much attention when Tiffany obviously also needed help. He stood up and approached her.

"You're hurt," he said, standing over her. She glanced briefly up at him, but said nothing. "I think I can cast a spell, if I try. I could use one to heal you."

"Don't waste a spell," Hector said. "There could be more of them, and we'll need all the magic we can get. You should be proficient in medicine, if the Gift of Knowledge works the way I think it does. Do you have a healer's kit?"

"I do." Brian extended a hand to Tiffany. "I could use that to—"

"Don't touch me!" Tiffany shrieked. Brian withdrew his hand a few inches. His breath caught. "Just... just leave me alone. I don't want your help."

Brian was at a loss. He wanted to assist Tiffany. She needed him to. And, yet, she refused his help. He understood that she was angry, and tensions were high, but surely her calf hurt. She must've felt woozy from the loss of blood. So, why the hostility.

Ylva stood. Brian looked over at her just in time to see her put a foot on Tiffany's shoulder and push her down. The blonde collided shoulder-first with the ground. She looked up at Ylva in shock and fear.

"Ylva!" Hector called, but it fell on deaf ears.

"No one has time for your bullshit right now," Ylva menaced. "What if more of those things show up? What are you gonna do, bleed on them? You need medical attention, and Brian has graciously offered to help you, when I'm sure he'd prefer to just sit down and relax a bit. What right do you have to say no?

"You've been an uncooperative _bitch_ since this whole things started. Do you think you're the only one suffering? Do you think you're the only one who's confused and afraid? The only one who left something behind? I left behind the man I love more than life itself. I left behind two cats, a dog, and the beautiful home we all made together. I left behind twenty-three students, all of whom I love as if they were my own kin. I get you're angry, frustrated, and sad, but the only chance any of us has of finding answers is in life here, not death. We're a _team_ now, which means we survive _together._ Don't you _dare_ get in the way of that."

Ylva took a deep breath, then stomped off past all of them. She came to rest at the barrels on the other side of the room. She leaned on one with both hands grasping an edge.

The room was eerily quiet. No one quite knew what to say. Brian agreed with Ylva, of course, but he felt that saying as much would be inappropriate. They all needed time to process what just happened, all the things Ylva just said. The best way to do that was in silence.

Tiffany laid where Ylva had placed her for a while. Her hair twisted into the dirt, while blood continued to trickle from her leg. Brian didn't know what she was thinking about, or how she felt. All he knew was he had to get that leg fixed up and fast, or Tiffany would start having some problems with blood loss.

Eventually, she sat up, where she stayed motionless for a good few minutes. She fixed her hair so it looked somewhat straight, but largely gave up on it. She took a deep breath in, and slowly let it out.

"Okay," she said. All eyes turned to her. "Okay, Brian. Use your healing kit, or whatever it is."

"Okay," Brian agreed with his best reassuring smile. "Thank you."

He rummaged through his bag to pull out the kit. It was a smooth wooden box filled with sutures, gauze, twine, salves, and those little scissors doctors always seemed to use. He sat down in front of Tiffany and got to work.

He started with removing Tiffany's leather schynbald and rolling up her jeans. From there, it felt like he was on autopilot. His brain filled with sourceless knowledge on what to do and how to do it. His hands moved with the skilled practice of a nurse or field medic, yet he'd never held a roll of gauze before. He applied some brown paste to the wound which he simultaneously did and did not know promoted rapid wound closure. He then wrapped up the wound nice and tight and redressed Tiffany's lower leg. The whole thing was a strange experience, like he both knew exactly what he was doing, but also had no idea. Was this the Gift of Knowledge at work?

The two of them were silent throughout the whole affair. Brian wanted to say something, to crack a joke or just make light conversation, but he knew how fragile Tiffany's mental state was. He didn't want to risk messing it up.

Tiffany, for her part, was a good patient. She grimaced through the pain of everything Brian did, and only jolted up once when he first applied the salve. It must've stung. She stayed tough, however. What Ylva said probably got through to her. Either that, or she was afraid of making the much stronger woman mad again. Regardless, she accepted treatment without complaint.

"Fuck!" Ylva suddenly swore just as Brian finished up. He, Hector, and Calvin were all on their feet in an instant, the latter brandishing his kanabo.

"What's going on?" Calvin said, looking around the room.

" _Fuck!_ " Ylva swore again.

"What is it, Ylva?" Hector asked, urgency in his tone.

"You all need to see this," she said while rolling one of the barrels out of the way.

Brian helped Tiffany to her feet. She stood with the slightest hobble on her injured leg. The rest of the party went over to join Ylva. What they saw there took Brian's breath away.

There was a tunnel in the wall.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Before anyone corrects me, I know Healer's kits don't restore HP without a feat. I have to rationalize the Short Rest mechanic somehow.**

 **A bunch of bad rolls at the very beginning. No one beat the DC 15 to spot the hole behind the barrels, so the rats ambushed them.**

 **I gave Tiffany a Wisdom saving throw at the beginning of each of her turns to see if she recovered from the fear she felt. She failed the first, and succeeded the second. Her dagger hit on the rat was enough to kill it as Hector hit it the round before.**

 **Some poor rolls from Hector, Brian, and Calvin made this first fight _way_ harder than I designed it to be. The rat which put Brian down rolled a natural 20 on it's first hit. Brian, on the other hand, only did two damage with his first attack, and rolled a three on his next one. Hector never did more than three damage with Frostbite. **

**Please remember to leave kudos and a comment, even if you didn't like the chapter. I love hearing from you all.**


	6. Boss Fight

"Well, that explains where all the rats keep coming from," Brian said.

The five of them stood in a tight semicircle, staring down at the hole in the wall. They reminded him of a street construction crew, the ones who stood around looking at a wrecked section of road, but never actually fixing it.

"You think this is where they're comin' from?" Calvin asked.

"Please. How else could they be getting in here?"

"It makes sense," echoed Hector. "If there's a nest or something in there, then it's no wonder the rats keep coming back."

"Only one way to find out," Ylva said. "Who's first?"

"First for what?" Calvin asked. His expression shifted a second later when he got it. "Oh, no. Hell no. I'm not going in there."

"Come on, this is an obvious quest hook," goaded Ylva.

"A what?" Tiffany cut in.

"Think about it, if we leave without investigating this and the rats come back, how does that make us look? We didn't do our job, and the Crown is out whatever gold they're paying us. Edgar wouldn't be happy, and you said yourself we shouldn't upset him."

"Yeah, but I don't think I'll fit," Calvin complained.

"You'll fit," Ylva said. "If anything, I'm worried about my shield."

"No, he brings up a good point," Hector said. "We have no idea what's in there. If it gets much narrower, none of us will fit."

"So we need someone to scout ahead, then," observed Brian.

"Exactly. I'll shine my light down there so whoever goes can see."

"You can't go?" Calvin said.

"If I get down on my hands and knees, I'll have a hard enough time getting up once. I don't want to risk doing it twice."

"I'll go," Tiffany said, to the absolute shock of everyone else.

"You will?" Hector said after a moment.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm the smallest, right?" Tiffany shrugged.

"Are you sure you can with your hurt leg?" Brian asked.

"My leg feels a lot better. It's actually kinda numb," Tiffany said. Brian wasn't sure if that were really better or not.

"Okay, if you're certain…" Hector trailed off. Tiffany nodded.

Hector held his staff close to the butt end and stuck the top in the hole. It became much darker in the basement. Tiffany got down on all fours and made her way inside.

The four remaining members all poked their heads in, watching as Tiffany shuffled down the tunnel. Silence reigned while she crawled further and further. The tunnel seemed to swallow up Hector's light spell, though Brian knew this was because of the enclosed nature of the passage. Shining a flashlight through a tube didn't make the light go any further, it just made the light narrower.

Tiffany approached the end of where the light clearly illuminated. She hesitated for a moment before delving into the dimmer area.

"Don't go too far," Hector called to her.

"Hold on," she yelled back.

The blonde crawled a few more inches, her silhouette growing harder to see with each hand over hand. Just as she would've passed completely into darkness, she instead stopped and stood up. From outside the hole, only her knees and downward were visible. By the way her lower legs twisted, she seemed to look around and bend over slightly. After a few seconds of that, she turned around to poke her head in the tunnel.

"Alright, I can't really see where it goes, but it gets a lot wider in here. We can definitely all stand," she said.

"Does it go on for a while?" Brian asked.

"I can't really see," Tiffany repeated. "It definitely stretches on past the darkness, but I don't know for how long."

"Stay there, I'll bring the light up," Hector said.

He got down and shuffled inside. As his light spell lit the tunnel ahead of him, it also made the basement progressively darker as he traveled further away. That was everyone else's indication to head in.

Calvin went first. He fit snuggly inside the tight space with just a little bit of wiggle room. Ylva removed her shield and tried to shove it in. Just as she suspected, it didn't fit. It was getting darker. The remaining two members were running out of time.

Ylva tilted her shield at a slight angle. It slid between a pair of the uneven spaces which made up the entrance. Just as she were trying to figure a way to get both her and the shield inside, Brian stepped up and took it from her.

"You go first," he said. "I can crawl on one hand and drag this behind me."

"Ok, thank you," she said.

Ylva dove in without wasting any more time. It took Brian a little finagling, but he managed to get inside the tunnel wit the shield held by the very edge behind him. He tried to keep it out of the dirt as much as possible. Ever thankful was he for the brief length of the crawl.

When he got back on the other side, he stood back up with the others and gave Ylva her shield back. Instead of slinging it across her chest like she had been, it remained firmly grasped in her left hand.

Hector took a moment to make sure everyone was assembled before he led the way in. The tunnel was all brown earth and grey rocks, with a few tangled roots mixed in for good measure. It twisted this way and that on a meandering path. The ground beneath their feet traveled ever downward, a steady descent which led them further into Exandria's depths with every footfall.

It was times like these where Brian really missed his smartphone, not because of boredom, but because of endlessness. Without having a clock on him at all hours of the day, he had absolutely no idea what time it is. That made the passage of said time ambiguous at best. He couldn't, for the life of him, begin to guess how long they walked down this path except that it was a very long time. At least, it felt long. He honestly couldn't tell how much time passed, as he had no gauge of how long a minute felt without the aid of a clock.

On and on they walked, no destination except the end of this winding passage. It would've been better with a little conversation, but everyone kept dead quiet. No one wanted to risk drawing more rats, or something even worse. So, Brian kept on in silence, jumping at every shadow, wondering beyond curiosity where this tunnel went and what waited for them on the other side. I they were lucky, the answers to those questions were _nothing_ and _nowhere_. But, if this world were anything like a game of D&D, then it was impossible for this journey to end without some kind of thrilling resolution.

At one point, the ground sloped at a sharper angle than ever. As the one in front, Hector was the first to go down. Despite his age, with the aid of his staff, he made it down pretty easily.

Next was Calvin. His descent started out well enough, one foot sideways in front of the other. After just a few steps, however, his balance failed. He slipped and slid on his rump several feet down until he finally came to rest somewhere behind Hector.

"Ow, _fuck_ ," he said as he slowly got to his feet. "No one saw that, right?"

Tiffany went up next. She didn't slide or even slowly walk down, so much as she bounded. Five long steps, and she made it to the bottom in seconds flat. To say Brian was impressed would be an understatement.

Ylva and Brian had about the same amount of difficulty on the way down. It took Brian considerably, longer, and he only slipped at the very end, but he managed to catch himself. Ylva had no such trouble, but she did take her time in going down.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," he said.

"Shush," Hector rasped with a hand out behind him. Brian then noticed the hunch in his back and the squint in his eyes.

"What is it?" Ylva asked.

"There's something up ahead," Hector whispered.

"What?"

"Yeah. The tunnel opens up, and I think I see a campfire or something. It's past my light so it's hard to tell."

"What are we gonna do?" Calvin asked.

"This is the boss fight, it has to be," Brian said.

"The what?" Tiffany asked.

"Do we sneak up on them?" Calvin continued to look for solutions.

"They've probably already seen us," Ylva observed. "We weren't being quiet, and you're basically a lighthouse." She pointed to Hector.

"So, what, we just go in?" Calvin said. "Because fuck that."

"I don't see any way of sneaking through the opening. And if we do, then what? We aren't going to sneak around a campfire, it's too bright," Ylva argued.

"I don't like it, but I agree with Ylva," Hector said. "We go in and try to seem nonthreatening, but if there's a fight, then so be it."

"Yeah, because that went so well last time," Calvin said.

"And we've learned a little since then. I think our next fight, no matter what it is, will go better," Hector said.

"Lets put it to a vote. All in favor?" Ylva said. She was the first to put her hand up. Brian, Hector, and—surprisingly—Tiffany followed a beat later. She probably just wanted to get it over with, which was why Brian voted for instead of against.

"Man, fuck you guys," Calvin said, knowing he'd lost the vote.

"Come on, Calvin. It'll be fine. We just need to stick together," Hector said.

"Whatever," Calvin shrugged. "Fuck it."

Despite what they said about just going in, the party did pick their steps carefully. Not stealthily, because Hector kept his light on, but they at least tried to make as little noise as possible. Brian realized—as well did, he assumed, everyone else—the futility of this, but that didn't stop any of them from at least attempting some semblance of sneak.

Brian felt his heart beat with an ever increasing cadence the closer he got to the opening, which he could see clearly now that they were all closer. Despite his crass delivery, Calvin was right. Their first brush with combat had been a disaster. Brian didn't even remember part of it, because he apparently blacked out. Would they really be okay just sticking together?

On the other hand, they had a job to do. Ylva said everything when she pointed out that if the five of them didn't solve the rat problem for good, then trouble would follow. They _had_ to do this, even if none of them wanted to.

Hector led the way into the oppening. It was a large chasm, wider than it was long. The fire, along with the light spell, illuminated the room well enough. There were some rocks to the northwest, and the east, as well as some crates northeast. To the west, disturbingly, was a large pile of bones. They appeared to be animal bones of various kinds, though Brian didn't care to ascertain what exact species made up the pile.

They weren't alone in the room, either. Two giant rats hung out by the rocks northwest. Another by the crates. A third stood in open space between the fire in the middle of the room, the crates, and the back wall. Most alarming, though, was the man.

He sat cross-legged behind the fire. A bare chest revealed muscles that looked to have been once burly and built, but now sagged with a combination of age and leisure. Blood long dried stained his torso, matted his hair, covered his bare arms. Like a hat he wore the severed head of a giant rat. It appeared to be held on with rope made of intestines. His hands wore gloves made from rat feet stitched together. Boots of dried brown fur covered his feet. The whole room smelled like death.

Hector only took a single step into the chamber. Brian and Ylva stood in front of him. Calvin positioned himself a few feet away to the left. Tiffany went far to the right, trying to keep low as if that would help them remain unseen.

"Hello, friend," Hector called out to the man. "My name is Hector. My companions and I represent the Adventurer's Guild."

"You killed my babies," the man said, voice more air and intonation.

"Sir, I—" Hector began. He cut off sharply when the man stood. Brian, Ylva, and Calvin all drew their weapons.

"You killed my babies!" The man screamed, and then let out a terrible shriek. Not a man, so much as a Madman.

"Aw shit, here we go!" Calvin said.

"Stick together, just like we planned," Hector called, as if they'd actually planned anything at all.

All at once, the rats charged the intruders. Each seemed to pick a different person to square off against. Still, it was Tiffany who attacked first. She shouldered her crossbow and, for the first time, fired it. She managed to hit the rat coming for her in its back right thigh. It squeaked, but did not slow in its pursuit.

Hector placed a few drops of water on the top end of his staff, just below the light. He then cut an arc in the air. Faint blue light trailed like a comet behind the tip. He then drew back and thrust forward to the center of his crescent. It shot forward and whipped down toward the enemies. The spell itself missed, but still exploded on impact with the ground. The Madman, as the only once caught in the blast, managed to dodge out of the way. Hector grit his teeth with a frustrated grunt.

A rat reached Calvin. He gave it a swing but the thing managed to leap aside, out of the way. It retaliated with a bit at his shin. While the teeth didn't sink in deep, A little blood dripped from the wound.

Ylva squared up as a rat came upon her. She swung her sword, but also missed. These rats seemed a bit more spry than the others. The creature leapt at her. While its teeth went wide, its claws did not. It cut a trio of narrow gashes just above her knee. Ylva winced, not overly hurt, but certainly now annoyed.

At the same time, Brian teed off against the fourth and final rat. His scale armor protected him from a low bite. He went for a low golf swing. Unlike the others, who were foiled by superior animal reflexes, his swing went wide of its own accord. The hammer head didn't even dip low enough. How embarrasing.

The Madman, more concerned with his war cry, was the last to act. He jumped over the fire and barreled toward Brian. The adventurer completely forgot about his failed strike as the Madman tackled him to the ground. They scrabbled there for a moment as Brian failed to oust the attacker. Every hand he threw to grasp was batted away, every buck of his legs thwarted. The Madman was simply too strong. He'd heard the term many a time before, but now Brian knew how it truly felt to be grappled.

Tiffany's rat hadn't reached her yet. She it a diagonal to give herself some space, then ran away from it, all the way to the crates against the far wall. She turned, reloaded her crossbow, and fired. The rat spun around to come after her again, and in doing threw off Tiffany's aim. The bolt scattered harmlessly along the ground.

Now free to engage, the rat came upon her. Try as she might, Tiffany couldn't avoid its attack. Teeth found the back of her left knee. She cried out and fell to a kneeling position. That bite hurt even more than the first one. Another hit like that, and she may end up like Brian had back in the basement.

"Hey!" Hector shouted. "Why couldn't the bicycle stand up? It was two tired!"

The old wizard crushed two little pecan tarts against his staff, then waved a feather with his opposite hand. A pink mist shot from his staff. It encircled the Madman's head. He appeared shaken by it for a moment, but thrashed his head about to disperse the mist. The spell took no effect.

Calvin put another attack on his rat. This time, his swing found a home. He caught the thing on its head. Something inside it cracked. It fell limp. Then, Calvin noticed all the commotion behind him. He saw the Madman holding Brian down. He saw Hector fail with some weird spell. He saw Ylva too caught up with her own fight to help, and Tiffany too far away. It was up to him, then. He marched right up to where the Madman wrestled with Brian.

Ylva was angry, at the situation, at the bad guys, but mostly at herself. It was a rat. She should've been able to hit it with zero trouble, yet there it stood in front of her, snarling and unharmed. This simply wouldn't do. She crashed the edge of her shield down upon its back. It squeaked and squirmed, spine most likely broken. She put the thing out of its misery with a clear cut across the neck. Rodent head separated from body as it died in a spout of deep red.

Brian struggled against the assailant atop him. Try as he might, he just couldn't get free. The Madman drew back and smacked Brian across the face. The claws on his grizzly mitten, still sharp and jagged, cut dozens of tiny fissures across his cheek and nose. One of them cut a tear in his left eye. The pain made him struggle even harder, yet he remained held down. In such a dire state, he could almost forget about the other rat gnawing vainly at his armored shoulder.

This all felt a bit too familiar to Tiffany, down on one knee, wounded, while a giant rat starred her down and her allies fought a desperate battle. No. She refused to be useless again. She would fight, she would win. She drew one of her daggers and stabbed straight down. The blade penetrated through the back of the rat's skill, pinning it briefly to the ground. The blonde didn't even bother picking it back up. That could wait. She switched back to her crossbow.

Hector circumscribed an asterisk in the air and sent the ensuing fog at the Madman. The enemy's shoulder blackened and withered, but he showed no real reaction to the damage. Hector cursed his uselessness and prepared another spell.

Calvin reached the Madman where he perched atop Brian, who was ready to bring down another strike. Calvin swung upward. His club missed Brian by inches, but caught the Madman in the ribs. Air escaped from the Madman's lungs as he took the impact. Calvin continued to push through the swing. With a great heave, he unseated the attacker. The Madman caught himself with one hand against the ground to land in a sort of half-kneel. He swiped wildly at his new target, effectively shutting down further attacks from Calvin.

Ylva moved around to Brian's other side, skirting the rat still trying to chew through his armor, to get a good angle on the Madman. She channeled all of her strength into a wide swing. This made the impressive attack slow and obviously telegraphed. The Madman swiped at the blade as it careened toward his throat. The rat legs on his hands provided enough protection for him to intercept the attack and knock it away. Ylva was unprepared for her momentum to be redirected in the other direction. Her grip faltered. The sword clattered across the dirt, stopping a few feet away from the fire.

Now free the that wretched hold, Brian struck back. He lashed out with his hammer, a short ranged chopping attack that didn't do much damage. The weapon made contact with the Madman's foot. While it probably broke a toe, the enemy didn't seem too inconvenienced by it.

The Madman took a swipe at Calvin, vengeance for interrupting his fight. The abundance of little claws artificially covering his hand sliced clean through Calvin's side to create a series of deep gashes. Red dripped down his grizzly hand, while more leaked from Calvin's stomach. The Madman smiled, for he knew his opponent to be near the end.

The rat still failing to get through Brian's shoulder armor reeled back for a big strike. It lunged forward and met not flesh, but a bolt. The projectile in its neck caused a moment of struggle, yet soon it went still. Tiffany reloaded her crossbow.

With only one target left, the rest of the party unloaded on the Madman. Hector sent another asterisk spell at him. Calvin smashed his frostbitten shoulder. Newly disarmed, Ylva held her shield with a hand on each side and brought it down onto the Madman's shoulder. Brian stood and took a swing, but missed.

The Madman took all of this abuse, and still remained standing. Battered, bruised, broken, he fought on. His eyes flicked from one attacker to the next, unsure of how to proceed. He took a strike at the closest opponent, but met the Nordic woman's shield.

In this flurry of motion, Tiffany found an opportunity. She could end this, now. All it needed was one good shot. She let loose a bolt. It burrowed into the neck of the Madman all the way to the fletching, while the point stuck out the other side.

The Madman wore a shocked expression for a split-second before his face and body sagged. He slumped over onto his blackened shoulder, motionless, chest neither rising nor falling. It was over. A single shot from a reluctant adventurer brought the fight to an end. The Madman was dead.

'That all of them?" Calvin asked, peering around the room.

"I..." Brian caught is breath. "I think so."

"Good, because I could use another break," Calvin said.

"Can we do that back in the tunnel?" Ylva asked. "There's an awful lot of death in here." She gestured toward the chamber in general.

"Sure, we can do that," Hector agreed. He led the way back into the tunnel.

"That's a good point, though," Brian said as he followed. "What do we do with the bodies?"

"We ain't the cleanup crew. Not our problem," Calvin said. No one argued with him.

Ylva recovered her sword. She waited for Tiffany to catch up before falling in beside her.

"You did well," she said to the blonde.

"Thanks," Tiffany said, terse.

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you. I just needed you to understand the predicament. You really proved yourself."

"Thanks," Tiffany repeated. "And I'm sorry, too. I was only thinking about myself, but there's, like, twenty other people all in the same boat. I'll admit I've always been a little bit selfish, but I don't think I can be right now. It's like you said, we survive together."

Ylva wore a big smile. "Together."

Back in the tunnel, the party all chose a section of wall to sit against. Brian, as the only one with medical supplies, took to patching everyone up. He started with himself, then Calvin, Tiffany, and Ylva. No one resisted him, this time. Brian still felt a bit weirded out by his sudden ability to treat wounds, but he decided to just go with it. Anything that benifited the party was a good thing, no matter how strange.

Once they were tended to, Calvin and Ylva searched the cave. They returned with a ring, a scroll, and about a hundred gold pieces, the latter of which were divided evenly amongst the group. When all was said and done, and they felt sufficiently rested, they got up and made their way back out of the tunnel, determined to never set foot inside Isalda's home again.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's such classic D &D that the encounter I designed to be much harder went way better for our heroes.**

 **The Madman was originally a Wererat, but in my first test run it got a TPK. After the casters ran out of spells, no one could hurt it, and it went ham. So, I changed it to a crazy guy with the same statblock, minus the trademark damage resistance.**

 **Please remember to leave a review if you liked this chapter, or even if you didn't. I haven't received any reviews yet, so you could be the first.**


	7. Aftermath

The party crested the hill leading up to the Adventurer's Guild headquarters. Hector took the lead, like he always did, but this time Ylva brought up the rear, with Tiffany, Calvin, and Brian in that order before her.

The length of their fighting combined with the rests in between meant the sun had gone down a while ago. Crickets chirped and night birds called. From the lake which dominated Trostenwald the lonely song of a hundred frogs and toads filled the air. The streets were mostly abandoned, as the people had work in the morning and couldn't afford a late night bender. Though, some probably drank well past their fill. At night, when a chill went through the air and most folks were safe at home asleep, the town became a much more serene place. Brian would even call it beautiful.

No words passed between the five of them as they climbed up the stairs which led to the stone dais they all had walked out upon after first awaking. It was empty, now, save for the guards standing watch. Different guards, Brian noted. Both were dwarves. He assumed this was because of their ability to see better in the dark than most other peoples. It made sense to have them stand post at night.

Hector took the party down the stairs on the left side and through the entrance to the armory. It was completely empty, save for Therdin who sat a bit apart from the left wall polishing a sword. The display racks had been partially refilled of the things that had been taken, including another set of scale armor, though the style and color were distinct from Brian's own. This made him wonder two things: One, who made all of these weapons? And two, where were the extras stored if not the armory? Questions for later.

Now that they were inside, the party fanned out a bit. There was no need to remain single file for the sake of navigating narrow streets. The five of them retained the same order, but in a much looser conglomerate. They looked overall more comfortable. Brian certainly felt better now that he was in more familiar territory, even if he'd only been inside this room once.

The five of them only made it a few steps toward Therdin before the handsome elf noticed them. He perked his head up and starred long enough to figure out who was in his armory. Then, he put the sword down and stood to await them patiently.

"Hail, Theridn!" Ylva called when they were about halfway to him. The elf just waved.

Therdin made no attempt to meet them in the middle anywhere. Instead, he waited until they came all the way over to him.

"You're back," he said when they reached him. He and Ylva clasped forearms briefly.

"And in one piece... mostly." Ylva indicated the bandages on her leg.

Therdin winced. "I see you're all a bit worse for wear. You'll definitely want to sleep that off, but first you should report to Edgar. Did you complete the contract?" He asked. Ylva was right when she said Therdin was soft spoken. Brian could barely hear him.

"Yep. It's all signed and everything." Hector held out the rolled up contract for emphasis.

"Excellent," praised Therdin. "Edgar is usually in his quarters at this time of night. Just go through the door in the far corner, his is the room all the way at the end of the hallway."

"You're sure we won't wake him?" Ylva asked.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. He doesn't sleep." Therdin said this as if it were perfectly normal. For him, it probably was.

"Oh," Hector let that one roll off his back. "Well, alright, then. Have a good night, Therdin." he began to lead his party away.

"You as well," Therdin returned. "Congratulations on your first successful contract."

"Thank you."

Hector followed Therdin's directions to a T, though they weren't difficult to manage. In doing so, Brian finally got to see what was on the other side of that door by the miscellaneous equipment table. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it probably should've been a hallway full of closed doors, because that's exactly what he got. There were only three on either side, with their destination at the end, yet it raised more questions than it answered. Where did all of _these_ doors go, and was he allowed to enter through them?

The party stopped before the closed room at the end of the hallway. Hector knocked on it.

"Edgar? It's Hector Alvarez. My companions and I have returned from our mission."

"Very well. You may enter," came Edgar's muffled voice through the door.

Hector looked for affirmation from his teammates before proceeding. He received nods from Ylva, Brian, and a shrug form Calvin. With a shrug of his own, Hector opened the door.

Edgar sat only a few feet from it, hunched over a small writing table, jotting down something in a thick tome. To either side of this table, and all along the far wall were row after row of books in many various shapes and sizes. The left wall housed a currently lit fireplace and fine red suede chair with brass fixtures. The back wall next to the door was stacked to the ceiling with drawers.

Edgar finished what he was writing and looked up at them when they'd all managed to squeeze inside.

"The contract, please," Edgar said, holding out a hand. Hector placed it in his fingers. "Very well. One moment."

Edgar unrolled the parchment and poured over the contents. He muttered to himself, seeming to read the contents. After a few moments, the paper glowed purple and then flitted away in ashes of the same hue.

"Very well. The contract is complete." Edgar reached into his sleeve and produced a brown coin purse. "Your reward is 200 gold pieces." He placed the pouch on the corner of his table closest to Hector.

"200 _each_?" Calvin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"200 for the completion of the contract, to be dealt how you see fit," clarified Edgar.

"That's it?" Calvin argued. "We just risked our lives, got all sorts of torn up, and all you can give us is 200 gold?"

"You risked your lives against a few rats, nothing more. The price is fair, I assure you," Edgar said.

"What about the crazy guy?" Calvin asked. "There was some dude living in a cave connected to the lady's basement. He almost killed Brian! I'm pretty sure that wasn't part of the deal."

"You're right," Edgar said after a moment. "It was not, but there are always unexpected complications. Such things are covered in the payout."

"Come on, man. I think we deserve a bit more for taking care of him," Calvin said.

With every word the youngest member of their party uttered, Brian wished he would just shut the hell up. By the glares given by Ylva and Hector, they agreed. Tiffany, meanwhile, directed her gaze anywhere but at anyone in particular. Edgar took a long breath in through his nose.

"Who delivered the killing blow on this _crazy dude_ ," Edgar asked, his tone clearly mocking at the end.

Brian and Ylva both glanced at Tiffany. This peer pressure was most likely what caused her to sheepishly raise her hand not even an inch above her brow. Edgar reached into his sleeve again and retrieved ten more coins, along with a piece of twine. He tied the coins up in a stack and tossed them to Tiffany. The coins hit her in the chest, yet she managed to catch them in both hands as they bounced and fell.

"A reward for a good kill," Edgar said. "The prices of our contracts are non-negotiable. Further attempts to haggle will not be in your favor."

Calvin looked from Tiffany, the coins in her hands, to Edgar, and back again. His mouth agape struggled for form words. Brian was ready to smack him if he tried to pull anything else. Calvin bit his tongue, however, which was likely to the benefit of everyone present.

"Now, if you're looking for more work, you can request a contract from me or Therdin at any time," Edgar says. "Or, you can wait until you are assigned something. I suggest you take a day's rest, however. You look to need it."

"No," Tiffany said suddenly. Coins in a balled up fist at her side, she pushed between Ylva and Brian to stand before the group.

"Something you wish to say, Ms. Tailor?" Edgar's tone was smooth. He folded his hands into his sleeves as he turned in his chair to face her.

"I don't want to do another job for you people," Tiffany said.

"You don't have a choice, or need I show you the deal you signed?" Edgar said. "Perhaps you need a refresher on what happens to deserters."

"No, I don't need a refresher." Tiffany crossed her arms. "We did your stupid contract. We killed the stupid rats. Now I want to go home."

"That was just one contract of many," Edgar reminded her. "The work you do for the Adventurer's Guild is a great service to the world and—"

"I don't care about this world," Tiffany cut him off. "I'm not _from_ this world. I don't want to be an adventurer. All I want is to go back to Earth."

"I'm sorry," Edgar said. "What you do beyond the Guild can be discussed at the end of your tenure, but I cannot help you with this request, because I know not of what you speak."

"Alright, fine. If you can't help me, then point me in the direction of someone who can."

"The only being I can think of with the power to teleport someone between worlds, not just plains, would be the Mesiter."

"Then stop wasting my time and bring me to him."

"Know your place, girl!" Edgar rose from his chair. All five party members faded away from him. "The Meister only meets with kings, and nobles, and even the gods themselves. What can you offer to a man who keeps such company? No, the Meister will not see you. Rise through our ranks, gain power and prestige through the glory you bring us, and then he might ordain to honor you with his presence. Even thin, I don't know if he can provide what you seek."

Tiffany looked down, her face red, al t he fire that was in her gone all at once. Maybe it was the sudden anger Edgar displayed, or hearing that her one chance of gong home was too far off, but she pushed the matter no further. She stepped back to retake her spot behind Brian and Ylva. They both let her go without resistance.

"Now," Edgar sat back down, "if that will be all, I must return to my ledgers. If you need shelter for the evening, we have rooms here, but they're only available to members who completed a contract within the last ten days. Think of it as a perk of your service. You are free to use them."

"That is very gracious of you, Edgar," Hector spoke up before anyone else had a chance to. "Thank you for the gold. We'll leave you to your books."

Edgar said nothing. Brian took that as their cue to leave. So did Hector, apparently, because he pushed into the hallway with the rest in tow. Ylva brought up the rear so she could close the door behind them.

On their way back through the armory, they asked Therdin where the rooms were. He led them there personally, to a space above the armory. It had a common room with three couches, a coffee table, an unlit fireplace, and a big bookshelf, as well as a kitchen area, long dining table, and two writing desks. A hallway in the back right corner of all this contained many doors.

"There are four beds in each room. The last two on the right are open," Therdin said.

"Thanks again for taking us here," said Ylva.

"Think nothing of it. Have a good night."

"You, too." Ylva waved at Therdin as he left.

In accordance with Therdin's suggestion, they took the last two rooms on the right, splitting them into one for the girls and one for the boys. The rooms had a bunkbed on against either wall, an empty desk at the foot of each, and a single wide dresser against the far wall beneath a square window. Brian picked the bottom left bunk and began to take off his armor. He had a bit of trouble with the knots Ylva placed inside the cuirass, but he managed to figure them out. He'd probably need her help to put it back on, though.

About and hour later, when he thought everyone had settled in well as they could, Hector made his way from the boys' room to stand before the close door to the girls'. He gave the door a few light knocks.

"It's me," he called. "It's Hector."

"Door's open," Ylva said from inside.

Hector opened the door. Ylva had taken the right bottom bunk. She lounged leaning against the wall, ankles crossed up on the bed, a red book in her hands. Her armor was piled up on the dresser, while shield and sword leaned against the bed.

Tiffany sat cross-legged on the left bottom bunk She still wore her armor, and didn't appear to be doing much of anything. Both women looked up at him as he took a step inside the room.

"Is everything okay?" Ylva asked over her book.

"Yes, everything's fine." Hector said. He looked at Tiffany. "Do you have a moment, Tiffany?"

"Me?" She pointed to herself, as if Hector would be talking to anyone else.

"You're not in trouble, or anything. I just wanted to talk to you," Hector said.

"Um... sure." Tiffany glanced at Ylva, clearly a bit uncomfortable.

Ylva seemed to read the mood instantly. She closed her book, set it on the bed next to the wall, and stood up.

"I'll go get some fresh air," she said before exiting. The door closed behind her. Hector waited a few seconds before walking over to Tiffany.

"I just wanted to see how you were holding up," the older man said. He gestured to a spot on the bed next to Tiffany. She said nothing, which he took as permission to sit.

"What do you mean?" Tiffany asked as Hector settled in.

"Well, it got pretty hairy back there," Hector began.

"It did."

"And," he hesitated. "And you might have done some things you're not comfortable with."

"I'm not comfortable with any of this." Tiffany gestured toward the roof, as if to indicate the entire world.

"I don't think any of us are," agreed Hector.

"I don't know," countered Tiffany. "You and Ylva seem pretty jazzed about it."

"What I'm trying to say," Hector brought it back on topic, "is you were in the thick of it. Other than Ylva, you killed the most things."

She shrugged. "They're just rats. I've seen dead animals before."

"Okay, but you also killed a person." Hector finally got around to the point he'd wanted to make in the first place.

"No, I didn't," Tiffany said matter-of-factly.

"Tiffany?" Hector wondered.

"None of this is real, right? It's all a dream. I didn't really hurt those rats, and I didn't really kill that guy. I'm not really in this room right now having this conversation with you. None of this is real."

"Tiffany." Hector repeated her name, this time a warning.

"Yeah," Tiffany continued. "I mean, think about it. I finally let my stupid big brother convince me to play his stupid dragon game with his stupid friends, and all of a sudden I'm _in_ the game? Oh, and I'm supposed to be a member of a crazy guild, and also I know how to use a crossbow? How does that make any sense? It has to be a dream, that's the only explanation."

"I..." Hector proceeded gently. "I know you're probably in shock. Edgar just said you're gonna be stuck here for a while, and you're—"

"I'm not _stuck_ anywhere," Tiffany interrupted. "It's just not real, plain and simple. Otherwise, how could I stab a bunch of rats without losing it?" Her voice became notably high pitch as she went on. "How could I shoot a guy in the throat with—" She sniffled. "With a crossbow and just—" The first tears fell. "Just stand there and watch him die? I would never be capable of that in real life, so this has to be a dream or something, right?"

Hector let the question hang in the air. He did his best to give her a soft expression. She wanted comfort that he just couldn't give. He came in here to check up on her, not to lie. It may have been a difficult pill to swallow, but it was one she had to take. This world would gobble her up, otherwise. So, Hector stayed quiet, for he didn't know what to say.

"It has to be a dream, right?" Tiffany repeated. "If it's not that means... that _means_... oh God." Her last few words came in a choked rasp. Her face twisted with sorrow before she slowly pushed a few inches away from Hector. She wept openly, head tilted into balled up fists which caught her tears.

"I..." Hector began, but stopped himself. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this better, so instead he just let her cry.

"I killed him," Tiffany said through shuttering breaths. "I shot him. I... I _murdered_ him."

"He was attacking our friends. He would've done the same to any of us," Hector said. "He almost did to Brian."

"We didn't even try to talk to him. We just started fighting. He had no choice." Tiffany continued, barely audible through the strain in her voice.

"He _did_ have a choice," Hector said. "He chose to fight us, and we defended ourselves. I know that doesn't make you feel better, but that's how you have to look at it."

"Hector, what are we doing?" Tiffany asked. "What am I supposed to do?"

"We're surviving together, just like Ylva said," he answered simply. "Beyond that, I don't' know, and I'm sorry that I don't."

"I want to go home."

"I know. I'm sorry. We just have to keep working for the Guild, then—if the Meister likes us enough—he'll send us home. That's what Edgar said." Hector let himself tell a little fib.

"No, he didn't." Tiffany immediately caught him.

He hesitated. "I'm sorry, Tiffany. I wish I had more answers for you."

"I just want to go home. I want to see my brother again, I want to sleep in my own bed, I want my phone, I just... I just—"

Tiffany could speak no longer. Sadness overtook every fiber of her being until all she could do was sit there and cry. Hector let her. He understood how important an emotional release like this was to the healing process. Ever since he was little, he always believed feelings were better expressed, rather than bottled up. It was painful, but Tiffany had to feel that pain. He couldn't make her feel better, but he could at least be there for her through it all.

Hector glanced at the door and saw a shadow shift beneath the gap shift on the other side before coming to rest. Too thin to be Calvin, but just a little too broad for Brian. Hector grinned, despite himself. He should've known Ylva wouldn't actually leave her fellow woman alone. As the two oldest members—though Ylva not by much—they would have a lot of work to do to keep this party together.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Tiffany rolled a 6 on her persuasion check to try and get Edgar to let them speak with the Meister. Admittedly, the DC for this check was very high. She would've needed a natural 19 in order to succeed. Conversely, Edgar rolled a 21 on his intimidation check back at her.**

 **During the last scene in the girls' room, Tiffany rolled a 16 on her intelligence check to see if she remembered exactly what Edgar said about going home. Hector rolled a natural 20 on perception to figure out who was listening in through the door.**

 **I've realized that rolling dice has sped up my writing process dramatically. I never even thought about how much time I lost agonizing over what characters should say, how they should act and react, what they should do in a fight, etc. When I can cut all of that out by tossing a few d20's, I save literally hours of work. A chapter this length normally would've taken me up to a week to write. With dice, and not counting the proofread, I finished it in just two days. The other chapters are the same way.**


	8. Day 2

Brian awoke the next morning. Or, he assumed it was morning. With no clock to indicate the time, he had absolutely zero idea what part of the day he was in. Living in such a low tech world was going to take a lot of getting used to. Brian's sleep addled mind suddenly had more respect for the Amish than it ever did.

While it would've been tempting to stay in bed a little longer, especially with the day he'd had previously, Brian found himself completely incapable of doing so. Without blinds to block out the sun, it was simply too bright in the room. Even if he closed his eyes, all he saw was red behind his lids. So, despite the exhaustion which gripped his bones—which wasn't much different from any other day—Brain sat up in bed.

He'd ended up taking the top bunk above Hector. The old man knew he couldn't get up and down the ladder, especially not in the morning. Calvin wasn't confident the constructions could hold his weight. So, Brian was forced into a top bunk, even though he kind of hated ladders.

A rub of his eyes, and he began his descent to the floor. To unburden himself from the covers meant the felt the unwelcome breeze from the two holes in his pants. He reached the bottom and saw Calvin on the right bottom bunk, messing with his kanabo, still clad in the leathers he most likely slept in. They must've been woefully uncomfortable. They really needed some new clothes. Beyond the damage, it felt weird to walk around a fantasy world in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Good morning, Calvin," Brian said.

"Mornin' ...or, whatever time it is," Calvin said without looking up.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one completely lost about that."

"There are clocks in this world, right? We should get one." Calvin said. Brian hummed agreement. If he remembered correctly, Percy made a clock tower in Whitestone.

"Where's Hector?" Brian changed the subject after realizing the bed beneath his was empty.

"Don't know. His bed was empty when I woke up," Calvin said.

"Well, whatever. I'm sure he's fine."

Brian went over to the foot of the bed to mess around with his pack, not because he actually wanted to get anything out of it, but because he had no idea what to do with his time. He was vaguely aware of Calvin glancing at him.

"Dude, your face." Calvin said.

"What, is it bleeding again?" Brian placed a ginger touch on his wounded cheek, but instead of the series of deep cuts, all he felt was smooth skin.

"No, it's healed," Calvin said.

"I see that." Brian poked around more frantically. Maybe he was just missing something? But no, even the other side felt brand new to his touch.

"What the fuck?" Calvin said.

Brian looked up to see him lifting up his leather top. Where there should've been the remains of a grizzly wound, there instead was solid skin. It looked like he'd never been in a fight before. He pulled up his trouser leg to find the leg, too, entirely unmarked.

"You didn't notice that earlier?" Brian asked.

"I wasn't sore, so I didn't even think about it," Calvin explained.

"Well, I guess most people don't worry about pain they can't feel," conceded Brian.

"This is fucking weird, bro. Why would we just heal overnight?" Calvin asked.

"Don't look at me," Brian said. "I know as much about this place as you do."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Can we come in?" Ylva called through the barrier.

"Sure," Brian said with an uncertain look at Calvin, who just shrugged.

Ylva opened the door, with Tiffany behind. Neither of them wore armor. Tiffany had on the same pink t-shirt and jeans Brian first saw her in. Ylva wore the green shirt and brown trousers, yet looked completely different without the maille on her chest and her hair in a ponytail.

"You _are_ healed!" Ylva said, pointing at Brian. She looked over her shoulder while entering the room. "See, I told you."

"Could you guys hear us talking?" Calvin asked, sounding a little bit embarrassed.

"Not really," Ylva shook her head. "We heard you shout something, then put our ears to the wall just in case you were in danger. Then Tiffany heard you say something about being healed, so we came over. Sorry for listening in."

"It's alright," Brian batted away the notion.

"You guys, too, then" Calvin said.

"Yeah. Us, too." Ylva bent over and spread apart the hole in her pants. "Not a scratch on either of us. Show them, Tiff."

The blonde was a bit hesitant. She looked at the other three in the room and just stood there for a few agonizing seconds. Eventually, though, she rolled up her pant leg and rotated a bit to show them. Brian remembered how awful the bite on her calf had been. It went almost to the bone. Now, the flesh had been completely rebuilt. She didn't even have a scar.

"That's incredible," Brian breathed.

"She was actually the first one to notice," Ylva said. The boys looked at Tiffany expectantly.

"Yeah," she all but whispered. "I was having a lot of trouble walking on it last night, so when I got out of bed this morning and it was fine, I knew something was wrong."

"I'm not sure _wrong_ is the word I'd use," Ylva said. "If anything, this is great news!"

"Still, that doesn't explain why we're all better," Brian said. "I mean, the Long Rest can't _actually_ work in this world. That's just a gameplay thing."

"Obviously it does," Calvin said.

"My DM always flavored it as wild magic rewarding adventurers for a job well done," Ylva shrugged. "Maybe that's it?"

"That still wouldn't explain why evil characters get healed," countered Calvin.

Brian looked over at Tiffany. Just a glance, and he could tell how woefully confused she was. He took it on himself to explain.

"In Dungeons and Dragons, Tiffany," he began, "players can take a Long Rest to restore their hit points to full. The rest usually takes as long as a good night's sleep."

"Which we all just got," Ylva added.

"That's really stupid," Tiffany said. "Why would just sleeping for a night heal anyone?"

"The same reason why eating food does in other games," Ylva said. "It's just a mechanic. It seems to be real here, though."

"I wouldn't argue with it," Calvin said. "I mean, I can take any amount of damage and just sleep it off? Shit, that sounds like a good deal."

"I agree," nodded Ylva. "This place is really weird, but this seems to only benefit us. We should take whatever advantage we can get." She garnered no arguments.

"I wish our clothes healed, though," Tiffany said, indicating the rip in her jeans.

"I was thinking about that earlier," said Brian. "We really need some new clothes."

"Well, we just made a little bit of money, we might as well spend it on something," suggested Ylva. "And that gives us a good excuse to explore the city."

"I'm not going anywhere without a shower," Tiffany denied. "I'm still filthy from yesterday."

"I'm sure they have baths around her somewhere. Come on, we'll go ask." Ylva began to depart to accompany Tiffany, but stopped to look back at the boys. "I'm serious. We're planning a shopping trip when we get back."

With that, they left. An awkward silence brewed between Brian and Calvin. Brain thought they both could admit that was a little weird. Those two girls just burst into their room, talked about wild magic or something, and then left to have super fun bath time. Ylva was a bit more energetic than Brian would have expected from her. It was adorable. And, it seemed Tiffany was feeling a little better, even though she was probably just swept up in Ylva's enthusiasm. That she allowed herself to be swept was a good sign, though.

After several minutes of wondering what they should do in the meantime, Brian decided a bath didn't' sound like the worst ever idea. Calvin agreed, but suggested they should go separately, which was what Brian had been thinking. The latter was the first to go.

The baths were pretty easy to find after a quick question to Therdin. They were through a door at the end of the room Brian and the others had woken up in on their first day. Traversing this room felt odd. It was completely empty, no people nor personal effects inside. It was also much smaller than Brain imagined. Every single bed had been occupied by the twenty-five new arrivals, and the spaces between them were much slimmer than he remembered. This area must've been used as a sort of holding room for new recruits. Brian couldn't think of any other use for it. Otherwise, why waste the space?

Therdin's directions hadn't been perfect. In reality, there were two doors at the end of the room, one marked _Armsmen_ and the other _Shieldmaidens._ Brian took the appropriately labeled entryway. Inside he found a long room with eight doors, four on each side, natural wood with simple brass fixtures. Most were empty, though some had signs handing on them. One kind of sign read _used_. Another said _occupied_.

As if to answer Brian's question as to what they meant, a man in rough clothes stepped out from one of the _used_ stalls. He carried several large, empty buckets with him as well as a huge container on his back. As he closed the door behind him, he retrieved the sign and placed it inside the stall, before making for the exit.

"M'lord," he said while passing by Brian, who just nodded. Well, that explained how the baths worked.

Brian took one of the unmarked doors. Inside was a large wooden basin, a drain in the middle of the floor, a single white towel, and a pumice stone. He realized his lack of soap upon sight of the stone. It was better than nothing, but he'd have to pick some up on their shopping trip.

Not wanting to waste time, Brian stripped down and placed his ruined clothes in a pile next to the door. He washed up quickly. The girls already had a head start. If both he and Calvin wanted to be done before them, they needed to hurry. He made quick work of the bath, careful not to irritate his skin with the stone.

Unsure of what to do, he left the dirty bath water upon departing, though he did make sure to put the appropriate sign on the door. He changed places with Calvin in their room. Without anything else to do in there while alone, he took to picking the dirt from his armor.

Calvin returned after about twenty minutes. With both of their little outings combined, it wasn't long before the girls came to collect them. Ylva carried her sword, but not the shield. Her thick black hair was still a little damp while it fell around her shoulders. Tiffany was neither armed nor armored. She sported a ponytail and, as usual, seemed a bit uncomfortable.

Together, they walked out of the boys' room toward the common area. It was relatively full. Three humans, a dwarf, and a halfling played some card game on the coffee table. An elf woman sat at one of the writing desks, idly scrawling something in a leather bound book. A pair of dwarves decided to use the head of the dining table for an arm wrestle, which drew quite the crowd. Among them, Brian spotted both his first half-orc, and his first tiefling, the latter of which was a beautiful woman with pale yellow skin in a purple dress. She caught him starring and gave a neutral nod before returning to the match. Brian, for his part, ripped his gaze away with redness sprouting in his cheeks.

The moment would've been much more awkward, if his knight in grey robes hadn't showed up. When the party was halfway through the common room, Hector entered. Ylva gave him a big wave as they approached.

" _There_ you are," she called out to him, then resumed speaking when they were all a bit closer. "I haven't seen you all day."

"I was down in the library," Hector explained.

"There's a library?" Brian wondered aloud.

"Yes," Hector nodded. "It's the room to the left of Edgar's. Kind of small, though."

"I wish I would've known that a few hours ago," despaired Brian.

"What were you doing?" Ylva asked.

"Ah, well, that's actually why I came looking for you all. It's about this." Hector held up the scroll they'd looted from the Madman's lair. "I was doing a bit of reading about spells and spellbooks. I think, with a combination of my research and the Gift of Knowledge, I can copy this scroll into my book. I want to know if that's alright."

"Ok, why do you need our permission?" Calvin asked.

"Because doing that will consume the scroll, and if I get it wrong, we can't use the scroll anymore. I wanted to ask the group before I risk wasting a resource."

"What kind of scroll is it?" Brian asked.

"I don't know," admitted Hector. "I didn't want to ruin it, so I haven't touched it."

"I say go for it," Ylva said. "It's huge if you can copy spells, and you've gotta find out somehow," she reasoned. Brian nodded.

"Yeah. That's, like, a big thing for wizards, right?' Calvin asked.

"What do you think, Tiffany?" Hector said.

The blonde girl started at being called on. She obviously hadn't expected to be included. Her eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing back on Hector.

"Me?" She specified. Hector nodded. "I... really don't understand what's going on. You know that."

"Maybe, but you're a member of this team. That means you get an opinion," said Hector.

Tiffany considered this for a moment with an aggravated huff. She looked down and away from her comrades, probably in an attempt to hide the embarrassment of being called out so openly. However, nothing she did could distract from the encouraging smile Ylva gave her. She sighed.

"Whatever it is you're trying to do, will it help us?" She asked of Hector.

"I believe it will," Hector said. "Copying the spell will give me another spell to cast whenever I want, which is always useful."

"Then do it," Tiffany said.

"Well, I think the majority rules," Ylva said.

"I'll get started right away, then," Hector took a step toward the space behind them, but only made it that far before Ylva interrupted.

"Why don't you come shopping with us, first? We're getting some new clothes to replace our damaged ones."

"You're spending money? I'm pretty sure this spellbook as Mending." He indicated the tome in his left hand for emphasis. "I could just fix your clothes with that."

"That would be useful in the future, but I still want to go out. It's either that or sit here all day," Ylva said.

"That's the main reason I'm going," added Brian. "I'm bored out of my mind here."

The three of them allowed the other two a moment to voice their opinions. Predictably, Calvin and Tiffany remained silent.

"Well, alright. Thank you for the offer, but I really want to get this done as soon as possible. Maybe some other time." Hector declined the invitation.

"Okay. We'll see you later then, Hector," Ylva said.

"Yeah, bye."

They went their separate ways, walking different directions. The group of four went to the exit, while Hector seemed destined for the boys' room.

A few hours of walking and a little asking for directions led the four to a clothing store known as Wendrin's Wardings. The shop was one big room laid out in every corner with various garments, most of which were of a common quality standard. This was clearly a place where the regular working folk of the town came to replenish their wardrobes.

Wendrin himself was a male high elf, with all the self-importance which came along with that. He didn't give off a very inviting air. Thankfully, there were other people in there to balance him out. Brian saw two elven women who seemed to be friends, a couple halflings, and a man who looked like a half-elf.

The four newly arrived humans broke apart almost immediately, each gravitating to their own preferred style. Brian took to the corner just left of the door. These were largely simple clothes, the sort of thing that a farmer may have worn, strong and sturdy affairs. Given Trostenwald's agricultural slant, he assumed this style was quite popular. If blending in was his goal, then any of these would be a good choice. He was especially enamored with a sleeveless cloth tunic with a trio of ties at the neckline. He wrapped it over his forearm, his first decision made.

He lost track of time—a startling trend—as he misplaced himself in a shopping stupor. Brian picked out a few more shirts and pairs of pants. He decided to be a little more conservative than he would have before, now that he knew Hector could fix up their things when the time was right. He didn't' need to worry about building a complete backlog of clothes for when he inevitably lost whatever he was wearing to the latest adventure. It wasn't the most colorful affair, but they would serve him well. He did choose one grey shirt, though, with the intention of matching his armor. It would look nice.

So enraptured was he with the first and only meaningful source of stimulation his brain experience since waking up, he failed to notice the footsteps approaching him.

"What do you think?" The voice of Ylva asked him.

Brian turned to see her standing before him, wearing a long sleeve green dress, with a neckline that showed a hint of cleavage, and a looping yellow design on the bodice. It was a much more girly choice than he would have expected from her, but he wasn't complaining.

"You look great." Brian wanted to say she looked beautiful, but he thought that would be highly inappropriate.

"Thanks," Ylva smiled. "I bought this on the off chance we ever have to look somewhat presentable. You never know. Have you tried any of that on yet?" She pointed to the garments piled up on Brian's arm.

"No, I haven't. It... kinda didn't occur to me until just now that it might not all fit."

"Typical guy." Ylva rolled her eyes, but there was no malice to be found in her expression. "There are fitting rooms over there." Ylva indicated a pair of doors directly behind her.

"Thanks. I think I'll go give these a shot." Brian said, walking past her.

"Good luck," Ylva called to him from behind.

What must've been a few hours passed, but eventually they all picked out their new garments, as well as which ones to wear home. Ylva changed out of her dress in favor of something much more practical: A deep brown tunic over lighter breeches, long dark boots, and a red scarf thing draped vertically over one shoulder.

Tiffany went with a brown sleeveless kirtle over a white dress with poofy sleeves. She also had a separate hood with a short mantle which she left down. Just as when she first showed off her armor, she looked about ready to die from discomfort, but encouraging words from Ylva seemed to lift her up just a bit.

Calvin went with a short green surcoat, split in the middle, black bordered by yellow at the edges. Underneath this he wore a white shirt, and matching pants which fed into half-calf black boots.

Brian's outfit was probably the simplest, a black coat hung open over a white shirt, tan pants, and brown boots.

They all looked like proper citizens of Exandria. Brian wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him was glad to have some new clothes which didn't stand out like a sore thumb. However, another part of him felt as though he were abandoning his old life completely. In coming to terms with his new surroundings, he worried about giving up what was lost in coming there. It was probably just stupid overthinking, but he couldn't rest the notions from his mind.

Upon returning to the guild hall, they found Hector in the boys' room. He had, indeed, managed to transcribe the scroll into his spellbook. It had been a Scroll of Identify. He tested it out on the ring they found in the Madman's lair to discover it was a Ring of Fire resistance. They agreed to sell it in an attempt to assuage their current lack of gold.

All in all, it had been what Brian considered a good second day in his new home. He'd spent some time with his new friends, accomplished something which needed to be done, got himself some new things in the process, and Hector discovered a new skill which would surely help them in the future. Exandria may not have been home, but he was starting to think it may do just fine in the meantime.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: No rolling this time, at all. I didn't find it necessary. Not everything has to be a skill check, after all. I sort of glided through the shopping section, as that's always my least favorite part of any game. I just wanted to take a chapter and show what life was going to be like for the party in this new world, in a way that doesn't get explored very often in typical Dungeons & Dragons play. There's a lot of things that can be ignored for the sake of gameplay convenience, but characters in a story don't really have that privilege. Having said that, I don't feel much need to retread these waters. I won't bore you all with a hundred armor cleaning scenes, or whatever. I figure you get the point. **


	9. Duel

Brian lunged forward. His weapon lashed out over his head, a devastating attack aimed straight for the enemy's face. Ylva put up her own implement to block. The strength of the blow took her off guard. Her elbow and wrist braced against the impact, but couldn't hold it fully. The attack came inches from hitting her face. But there was no danger. These were wasters—wooden training implements—not real weapons. Ylva's was an arming sword. Brian had more of an axe to simulate his warhammer.

"Very good," Ylva said, disengaging. "That's your best attack so far."

"Thanks," Brian said.

Ylva smoothed some sweat damp strands of black hair from her forehead. "It's not good enough, though."

The shieldmaiden lashed out with a stab to his throat. Even with the Gift of Knowledge guiding his hand, Brian didn't see the attack coming. The point of her wooden weapon caught him straight in the Adam's apple. The pain which shot through his neck was nothing compared to the momentary horror of being unable to breath. Brian's hands flew to his throat while his knees gave out. He fell to all fours, coughing and spluttering.

Ylva extended a hand to him. He noticed it, but remained where he was to catch his breath and maybe sooth the rasping cough in his throat. When the pained hacking stopped a minute later, he grabbed the offered hand. Ylva helped pull him to his feet.

"How did you do that?' Brian asked, idly rubbing his neck.

"Speed and placement are just as important as strength. A well-aimed shot can cripple a man without much effort," Ylva explained.

"Okay, but you still hit me pretty hard," complained Brian.

"Well, it's important to combine all three," Ylva said with a smirk. Brian rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, lets reset and go again, one more time."

Brian took a few steps away from her and turned to face down his opponent/teacher. He assumed the stance she showed him, left side out with the wooden axe held behind his neck.

It had been one week since their last job, one week in Exandria living the life of a normal guild member. In that time, Brian had plenty of opportunities to reflect. He remembered the hard time he had against the rats back in Isalda's basement. He could hardly hit them, and when he did, the blows carried little impact. That was when he realized something very important. The Gift of Knowledge gave them the ability to use their equipment, but did _not_ instruct them on the best ways to apply those skills. He knew how to use a warhammer, yes, but not how to fight properly with it.

That was where Ylva came in. Brian remembered the couple of times she mentioned being a HEMA instructor. Who better to teach him the art of combat than someone who taught people how to fight for a living? Ylva had been more than willing to help, and even ran off to ask Therdin for training tools before Brian could set a time and date for the lesson.

That was how he found himself in the girls' room, facing off with a beautiful woman who was currently kicking his ass. Tiffany had vacated the moment the two of them told her about what they wanted to do, so they were alone together in the room.

"Whenever you're ready, Brian," Ylva said.

Brian let instinct take over as he came forward. An ethereal force guided his hands to the easiest strike available from his stance, a diagonal downward swing from the right. Brian learned a while ago this unseen assistance was the Gift of Knowledge. It didn't tell him what to do, but instead aided his motions when doing something with his new skills.

Ylva blocked with a hanging guard then flipped her wrist around for a quick cut. Just like she taught him, Brian caught the blade in the hook created by the head of his own weapon and its haft. He put all of his strength into a broad drag. Ylva's sword was caught up in the motion. It flew from her grip and clattered against the right wall, bouncing with enough force to clear the bunk bed.

Brian did his best to combo into another diagonal right. Ylva used both hands to deflect the blow with his momentum, then lashed out with a backfist. Brian faded back from it. He came forward overhand. This time, Ylva caught his wrist well before it reached her, again with both hands. She pulled backward and down while wrenching her whole body around. Brian's contact with the floor failed him. He ended up face-down in the wood, a bump already forming on his forehead. Ylva skittered away to recover her weapon.

"Up!" She commanded.

Brian did as he was told. They squared off for a moment, before he opened the bout again. He tried an attack from the other direction, but Ylva's defense was impeccable. She blocked high, then dropped her guard to swing up into his ribs.

Brian absorbed the attack. He made an attempt to capitalize on her low guard to swing at her temple. To his sheer amazement, he actually managed to hit. Ylva took the blow, allowing it to turn her head a bit. Brian gasped. It was his first time hitting a girl for any reason. He was about apologize when Ylva gave him an evil grin. She lashed out with a chop that Brian barely managed to halt.

He tried to retaliate, but was blocked. Ylva, however, could not be stopped. She repaid his head strike with one of her own. She then immediately drew back into a defensive posture to block his follow-up. Her next swing cracked across the fleshy part of his right shoulder. A pain took him so great it numbed that entire side of his body for a second. She really wasn't holding back. Maybe that one hit finally managed to earn Brian a bit of respect? He was simultaneously honored and terrified. He wasn't sure his body could handle another hit like that.

Instinct told him the best thing to do when trying to avoid an attack was launch one of your own. He tried to slash across his body, but Ylva blocked it with almost zero effort. She slid her weapon along his into a deep stab. Brian quarter turned to avoid the point. He struck down at her exposed face, but couldn't get through. Ylva went for a straight downward slice, which Brian blocked.

He took a small step back, impressed he'd actually managed to exchange with her a bit. They'd been at this for a couple hours, now, and this was the best he'd done so far. Maybe her instruction, with a bit of arcane help, was setting in.

With newfound confidence, he assumed his stance and struck at her. He swiftly learned this confidence to be misplaced when she defended. Brian checked himself just in time to block her counter horizontal swing. He tried to thrust up at her face, but the attack was slow and clumsy with a weapon not meant to stab. She dodged back from it.

Ylva thwapped him across the face with such force that he spun a quarter rotation and fell onto the bed. He caught himself against its edge, yet couldn't dislodge the pain in his head. It felt like he had a migraine and he could've sworn the room looked a little darker. Distressing, was all of this, for he heard Ylva approaching his defenseless form.

"Yield!' He blurted, waving an awkward hand behind him. "I yield! You win."

"You okay?" Ylva asked from behind him. "I hope I didn't hit you too hard."

"No, I'm good." Brian turned over and slumped to the ground, back against the bed. "I mean, you rocked me a little but I asked you not to hold back, so I'm good."

"Good," Ylva smiled. "But, I think that's enough for today." She sat down next to him "Training with tired muscles makes you weaker, not stronger."

"Really?" Brian questioned. "How does that work?"

"If you're tired, you can't maintain the proper form or use the right technique, and that makes you pick up bad habits."

"Makes sense," Brian shrugged. "I never really thought about it that way."

"That's why you're the student, and I'm the master," joked Ylva.

"Yes, Sensei." Brian went along with it.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that," Ylva said.

"Please, no."

"Too late!"

"Dammit." Brian dramatically deflated. Ylva chuckled at him. "Thanks for training with me."

"You're welcome, for the third time," Ylva said. "You're doing really well, just need to work on strength and speed. Those will come with time."

"Yeah, well, don't praise me too much. It's mostly the Gift of Knowledge. I don't even know what I'm doing most of the time."

"That's called _instinct,_ when you're body moves correctly but you didn't really tell it what to do. It's just a reaction, muscle memory.

"Is that a good thing?"

"It can be," Ylva nodded her head to one side. "It's good to react automatically, but it can only carry you so far. Eventually, you'll need to learn how to apply your skills intelligently to actively engage with a threat." Ylva paused to let him absorb this information before continuing. "A lot of people hit a wall with it. They black out when they fight and can't figure out how to move past that, and it keeps them from the higher levels of competition."

"Why's that?"

"Because instinct isn't mastery. It's enough to handle a lot of people, but when you encounter someone who's learned to really use and manipulate their skillset, they'll walk all over you."

"So, is that what you were trying to teach me?"

"It's what I _want_ to teach you. And Calvin and Tiffany," Ylva added quickly. "It'll just take time."

"Anything to help us survive out there," Brian said.

"Yeah," Ylva agreed. "But, enough with the serious stuff." Ylva stood up and walked over to the dresser." "I have to go into town for something." She began belting on her sword. "Do you wanna come with me?"

"You're going somewhere?" Brian asked stupidly. Of course she's going somewhere. She just said so.

"Yep," confirmed Ylva with a nod. "I have to see a man about a sword. Well, more of a shortsword, really."

"And you want me to come?" That was the part that really confused Brian. Why would she want him to follow her around?

"Why wouldn't I?" Ylva seemed to read his mind. "Unless you want to stick around here alone all day. Your choice."

"No, I'll come, if that's alright."

"Okay, then. Grab your stuff and let's go." Ylva started toward the door. Brian stood and followed her.

"Do you really think I'll need my hammer?" He asked.

"I meant your coin purse, but you can bring your weapon if you want," Ylva said.

"I think I'll just bring my money." Brian looked at the ground and tried to conceal his embarrassment as he followed Ylva into the hall.

She waited outside the boys' room for Brian to enter and retrieve his purse. He felt stupid while doing so, with a glance at his hammer propped up against the dresser. Obviously, Ylva didn't need him to bring along his weapon. She could take care of herself just fine, as well as him. If any cutthroats assailed them, Brian would probably be a liability, given how Ylva had trounced him for the entirety of their training session. It was better for him to just go unarmed. He grabbed his coin purse from his bed and headed out.

"Ready?" Ylva asked the moment he appeared from the door. Brian nodded. "Then let's go."

…

A trip through the Guild hall and a bit of healthy walking through the streets found Brian and Ylva in the heart of Trostenwald. The town itself looked much the same as it had every other time he had traversed it during the day. People and guards walked here and there. The occasional merchant's cart transported goods. There was some trade and loud advertising, but most people weren't free from their jobs to go shopping yet.

Not these two humans, however. They moved through the streets burdened with purpose, a swordswoman and her charge destined for commerce. This was all well and good, except that as Brian looked around he realized how well and totally lost he was. A week in Trostenwald was not enough time to give him any sense of direction. All the buildings of wood and stone looked the same to him. There were no street signs, so it was impossible to tell where he was.

Ylva, though, seemed to know exactly where she was going. She walked with conviction through the latticework of interconnected streets. Brian trod along next to her. He wanted to be a step behind, but Ylva had none of it. During the early legs of their excursion she slowed down whenever Brian tried to fall behind until they were side-by-side once again. After a few repetitions of this, Brian accepted his lot and kept an even keel with her. It was harder to follow while in step with Ylva, but he admitted it felt nice to be on literal equal footing with her.

"So," he began, "do you have any idea where we're going? Because I'm completely lost."

"A smithy," answered Ylva with a grin.

"Yeah, I figured that out." Brian rolled his eyes. "I mean specifically."

"Hmm, sorta," Ylva said. "Do you remember that smithy we heard on the way to Isalda's?"

"No."

"Well, there was one. It sounded pretty close to that courtyard. I'm gonna go there and then ask for directions."

Now that she mentioned the courtyard, Brian did have a vague sense of where he was. Some of the buildings around him were slightly familiar, as if he saw them in a dream or something. That wasn't enough to give him the slightest clue about where they were headed, but it did set him more at ease. He decided to just follow Ylva. It worked out so far.

Eventually they came upon that same courtyard they passed through twice on their first night in Exandria. Brian recognized it from that merchant in the corner hawking his wares. If he listened, there most certainly _were_ metallic pings on the air. Ylva must've heard them as well, for she looked in their direction and pointed.

"There, I knew it!" She took off diagonally left. "It doesn't sound too far, either."

Brian jogged a few steps to catch up with her.

The blacksmith was easy to find by following the sounds of industry. The two humans followed the main cobbled road, passing by traffic of every shape, size, color, and race. They crossed what appeared to be a major thoroughfare, then arrived at the source of the sounds tucked into a little corner.

 _Lundgrum's Ironworks_ was a trapezoidal building given a wide berth on the street, likely because of the noise and heat emanating from within. A wave of both assaulted Brian as he entered. The narrow door opened immediately into a large workshop dominated by a basin forge with anvils and workbenches strewn throughout, while various tools hung from most walls.

At the forge stood a dwarven man, a deep blue tunic over brown pants fed into thick boots. Bald of head, grey dominated his black beard and long braided mustaches. He wore thick goggles on his eyes. He pulled what looked like it would eventually become a sword out from the fire and was about to beat on it with is giant hammer, when Ylva called out to him.

"Hail, master blacksmith," she shouted into the forge. The dwarf looked up at her curiously.

"Ah, greetin's there, lass." The smith put down his work, propped his goggles up onto his head, and approached them. "Welcome to _Lundgrum's Ironworks_. I'm Lundgrum. What can I do for yeh?" He had a thick, hardy accent, like one would expect from a fantasy Dwarf.

"I was wondering if I could have something made," Ylva said simply.

"Well, you certainly can, but I have plenty of weapons and armor in stock. That would be cheaper than a custom design," Lundgrum said. Brian wasn't sure if he should be offended by that or not.

"Thank you, but I'm looking for something specific," Ylva denied. "Have you ever heard of a broken back seax?"

Lundgrum thought for a moment. "No, can't say as I have."

"That's alright. A lot of people this far south haven't. I drew up an example for you." Ylva reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper.

"When did you have time to do that?" Brian wondered aloud.

"I get up really early," responded Ylva.

She unfolded the paper and held it up to Lundgrum. He reached for it with a hesitant glance at her. She nodded, and he took it.

From what Brian could see, it was a broad bladed weapon with a thin point that swelled at a shallow angle about three-quarters of the way back to the full width of the blade. The name of it suddenly made a lot of sense, as it did indeed appear to have been broken and then reforged into a clean piece. The handle was considerably thinner than the blade. It swelled out at only the very top to merge with the fitting which married it to the blade itself.

"Interesting design, clearly a chopping weapon," observed Lundgrum.

"They're traditionally for stripping the bark and branches off of a log," said Ylva.

"Ah, that makes sense," Lundgrum nodded. "What kind of dimensions are you thinking?"

"Two inches wide at the base and fifteen inches long."

"So, on the short side for a shortsword. And the hilt?"

"Brass fittings, first of all," Ylva began. Lundgrum nodded. "And I'd like blackened wood for the handle, but if that's not possible, then a simple dark wood is okay."

"I can give you black if you want black," Lundgrum said. "I've never made anything quite like this, but it seems doable enough. I'll give it to you for my usual price for a shortsword, ten gold pieces, five now and five later."

"That's more or less what I expected to spend." Ylva dug out five coins and held them out in a closed fist to him. Lundgrum folded up the design to hold it on one hand. His other accepted the gold that was dropped into it. He pocketed the money.

"Very good. Thank you for your patronage."

"Of course, master smith," Ylva said with a little bow of her head.

"And what about you, lad? Can I do anything for you?" Lundgrum addressed Brian.

"No, no. I'm just following her around." Brian indicated the woman to his left.

"Alright, then. Give me three days. That should be plenty of time to get this finished up real nice," Lundgrum said to Ylva.

"Will do. Thank you very much, Lundgrum," Ylva said, turning to leave with a wave.

"Aye." Lundgrum returned before making his way back to the forge.

Brian and Ylva walked out into the street together. That whole process had been much quicker than he expected. Brian thought they'd be there for at least a half hour—but probably more—discussing the finer details of what Ylva wanted. But no, they both got the point with little difficulty on either end. This must've been what it looked like when two people who knew exactly what they were talking about made any sort of arrangement. Brian had honestly never seen anything quite like it.

"That was fun," Ylva said. "Anywhere you want to go?"

"No, not really," Brian said. "I have everything I need."

"Let's go back to the guild hall, then," suggested Ylva. Brian nodded agreeance and they were off.

Between a great training session, a nice little walk, and his first ever time in a smithy, there were many much worse ways to spend an afternoon. Brian still didn't really like living in a place with zero technology, or even electricity, but good days like this—and good people to spend them with—made it all a little more bearable.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: I allowed Brian and Ylva to keep their full AC during their training session, even though they weren't armored. It made the fight more interesting. Ylva's first attack was a natural 20 that put Brian down in one hit. Since that would've been a really boring fight, and they weren't trying to hurt each other, I had him just sputter for a second instead of fall unconscious. Ylva then rolled a natural 1 and lost her sword. To this point, Ylva is the only party member to have rolled a 1 in combat, and she's done it twice.**

 **I've been experimenting with upload times based on traffic data to FFN, Facebook, and Instagram, to figure out the best upload window. That in mind, new chapters will be uploaded every Wednesday around 2 P.M. PST.**

 **Please remember to leave a review, even if you didn't like the chapter.**


	10. Cry Havoc

It was morning, but barely. While Brian was by no means an expert, by the position of the sun he thought it about eleven. It seemed a bit unseasonably warm, not that he knew what time of year it actually was. With everything else going on, he'd neglected to get a calendar. The light green on the trees told him it was maybe early spring, the equivalent of March? This lack of a place in time was driving him mad, yet he did nothing about it. All he knew for sure was it had been three days since his training session with Ylva.

He walked second in line with his companions down a dirt road. Trostenwald was several hours behind them, replaced with open fields and the occasional copse of trees mostly to the left. The land just outside the town was almost completely dominated by farms, some privately owned, some the property of larger conglomerates and wealthy families. Now that the five of them were far away from those farms, the signs of civilization were sparse. Most people weren't much interested in living far away from the relative safety of civilization.

A clear exception to this would be their destination. Edgar had given them their second assignment the night before. A chicken farm owned by the Bellor family had been beset in the resent weeks by a pack of wolves. The five of them were to travel to the farm and eliminate the beasts. It was to that end that the party now traveled.

Brian observed Hector in front of him. The old man fed a pellet of some sort to his new familiar, a fruit bat named Noche. It had taken him almost all of their downtime to figure out how to cast find familiar, but once he did the two were inseparable. Brian had never actually seen a bat up close. He had to admit, while bigger than expected, Noche was absolutely adorable.

"Do Fey bats even need to eat?" Calvin called from just behind Brian.

"I don't know," Hector admitted, "but he doesn't seem to mind."

"What are you giving him, anyway? I thought fruit bats ate, well, _fruit,"_ Brian asked.

"It's a preserved fruit bar, mostly dates and raisins. I bought them because I didn't know how long we'd be out here. Do you want one?" Offered Hector.

"No, thanks." Brian waved a hand. "I'm allergic to raisins."

"Man, how is it that some people are allergic to raisins but not grapes. Aren't they the same thing?" Calvin changed the subject.

"I'm not sure. I never figured that one out," Brian said.

"Makes no sense." Calvin shook his head.

From behind the big man, Tiffany and Ylva could be heard talking. Unlike the boys, the two of them walked right next to each other.

"Shouldn't we be getting close by now?" Tiffany asked. "My feet are killing me."

"The contract said to go just past the sign pointing to Alfield, then take a short foot trail on the left all the way down the hill. I haven't seen the sign yet," Ylva said.

"That doesn't help," Tiffany complained.

"I know."

"I glad we actually have directions this time, though," observed Tiffany.

"I know, right?" Brian called back.

"It's certainly a nice change of pace," agreed Ylva.

The party walked on for roughly an hour longer. They did eventually come across a sign pointing to Alfield, though Brian doubted they were anywhere near there. With the mostly clear landscape it was easy to spot the path they were meant to take. Hector led them down it. The incline down the hill was a nice medium slope, not gentle but also not steep.

Smoke rising in the distance was the first sign of a home. It slowly rose into view as the party advanced toward it. The building was a wide two-story structure of repeating white panels separated by dark wood beams. A large fence stretched off to its right with three chicken coops on the far side. Brain didn't see nor hear any fowl, though, so he guessed they were all locked up.

Hector walked up to the front door and gave it three solid knocks. Within seconds it opened. The man inside was a human male, skin kissed by the sun and made somewhat leathery by it. Just a hair shorter than Hector, the years of hard manual labor put lean muscle on his bones. With blue eyes and brown hair flecked grey, he was handsome in his middle years.

"Greetings," Hector said.

"Hello," the man returned before Hector could continue. "I saw you come down the hill. Are you with the Adventurer's Guild?"

"Yes, we are," confirmed Hector with a nod.

"Right. Come in, and I'll explain the situation." The man faded away from the door, leaving it open. The party filed inside. With Ylva the last to enter, she closed it behind her.

The door opened up into the kitchen. A cast iron stove sat against the left wall with a wash basin right next to it. There were counter tops around most of the walls, each of them with a cabinet both above and below. A square dining table with four chairs dominated the center of the room. The whole space, while plenty big enough, had a slightly claustrophobic feel with all of the clutter. Brian wasn't sure if he liked it. But, he wasn't there to scrutinize the feng shui.

"I'm Fredwick Bellor," The farmer went around and introduced himself to everyone.

"We hear you've had some trouble with wolves, Mr. Bellor," said Ylva.

"Yes, trouble is certainly a word for it," Fredwick began. "It's been going on for a few weeks now. They used to only come around when there was no one outside, but now they're getting bold. That's why I went to the Guild. I've seen them several times while I was outside, and my wife and I have been chased off by them before. I'm afraid for my family, for my little boy."

"We'll do everything we can for your family," Hector said.

"Do you know where they come from?" Ylva asked.

"It's always from over that hill, the same one you guys came down. Other than that, no," said Fredwick.

"We could track them," Calvin said. "If we know where they're coming from, we could find their den and fight them there."

"We might not find them," Hector said.

"Or, they could attack while we're gone," added Ylva.

"Well, what are we supposed to do, then?" Calvin began. "Because we can't stay here, either. I'm no wolf scientist, or whatever the fuck, but I don't think they'll attack if they see all five of us hanging around."

"What if they don't know we're here?" Brian interjected. All eyes turned to him and he found himself suddenly embarrassed for having spoken.

"Go on," Ylva prompted.

"Hear me out," Brian began. "I'm thinking we hide in the house, use a chicken as bait, and wait for the wolves to show up. When they get close, we rush out. That way they're cornered and they'll have to fight. Or, if they run away, they'll be easier to track."

"What about my chicken?" Fredwick asked immediately.

"You can run out and bring it inside before the fight begins."

"That..." Hector said, then hesitated. "That might actually work."

"We might have to stay here for a little while, but if they attack as often as you say, Fredwick, then we shouldn't have a problem," Ylva said.

"I'm down for anything that requires less effort," Calvin said.

"Tiffany, what do you think?" Hector said.

The blonde girl wore a deer in headlights expression for a moment. She clearly hadn't expected to be called on. The surprise passed, and she went back to her neutral gaze, which lived somewhere between aloof and annoyed.

"I _really_ don't know what's going on," she began. "I'll fight with you guys, but the planning part goes over my head. You all have way more experience with that than I do."

"In the game, maybe, but not real life," Ylva countered.

"It's the same idea, just that now you're doing it on location, instead of in a basement. If you want to wait for them, then that's what I'll do." Tiffany crossed her arms as if to give the statement an air of finality. All it really did was make her look like a stuffy teenager.

"Well, I guess that settles that, then. We lay a trap," Hector said.

…

And they waited. And they waited. ...And they waited. Until Brian thought it the only thing he was capable of doing, they waited. Fiction always made stakeouts seem exciting, or at the very least engaging. This was neither of those things. The only sensation Brian felt was absolute, overbearing, boredom.

The minutes crept by like hours, each one an exercise in tedium. The adventurers shuffled restlessly around the kitchen, none of them able to make a decision on how to best occupy their time. In the real world, Brian would've just pulled out his phone and messed around with it until something happened. Here, he didn't have that option. It was distressing to find out he had no idea what to do with his hands if they didn't have a phone in them. In that way, he tried to see this as a positive. It taught him, whether he liked it or not, how to operate without technology. Next time he found himself in this situation, he would surely bring a book.

At one point, Hector had the brilliant idea of sending Noche out as a sort of advanced warning system. The bat could perch in a tree then fly back to the farm when it saw the wolves approaching. This occurred rather late into the watch, so the bat was barely gone thirty minutes before it flapped right back over the hill. Tiffany, sitting next to the window, saw it first.

"Guys! Noche is back," she called, rising from the chair which had been pulled up to the window.

Like clockwork, everyone in the room turned their heads to inspect the validity of such a claim, and then focused their attentions on the hill. One by one, they gathered at the window. Ylva removed her shield from her back. Brian, taking a cue from his teacher, did the same.

Several agonizing seconds stretched on into eternity. Noche flew up over the house and, Brian assumed, perched atop it. Not long after it followed a pack of wolves. Brian's heart somehow managed to simultaneously leap into his throat and drop through the floor. He counted seven. He hadn't mentally prepared for so many.

"Not yet," Ylva called. "Wait for them to get closer."

"Can I at least go get my chicken?" Fredwick asked.

"Come out after us. Let us make a barrier between them and you," instructed Ylva.

They watched the wolves stream down the hill. The creatures fanned out in an offensive formation as they got closer. These were timber wolves their dirty coats of grey and brown. Except, that was, for the one in the middle. It was jet black with strands of grey in its coat. This beast stood at the shoulder tall as an average man. The player in Brian knew this was a dire wolf.

The moment the wolves crossed what looked like a hundred feet of the house, Ylva threw open the door. She drew her sword and ran out. The party flew out behind her. Fredwick was the last. He grabbed up the bait chicken. The now spooked bird flapped in his grasp, but he tucked it against his chest and ran back inside. Brian thought he heard the farmer bar his door with something.

"Formation, everyone, just like we discussed!" Ylva shouted to her companions.

Ylva stopped directly in the middle of the fenced in area. Calvin ran past to stand ten feet from her left. Brian stopped ten feet from her right. Hector sidled up right behind her, while Tiffany threaded the gap between Brian and Ylva ten feet back.

The moment these humans appeared, the wolves slowed to a crawl. Their shape inverted so the dire wolf was at the back of the V while those on the wings moved into obvious flanking positions.

Tension sat heavy on the air, so thick Brian could have smacked it with his hammer. Or tried to, at least. Through it all, breathing. Not his own. Brian leans to look around Ylva. There he found Calvin, shoulders hunched, chest puffing all the way up and then out through his nose in rapid motions. A growl grew on his lips, louder and louder until he leaned back and erupted a war cry to shake the heavens and tear the Earth.

"Come get some you overgrown poodle motherfuckers!"

The wolves of course, were unphased, but Calvin's outburst set the tone for hid allies. They were ready

They could _do_ this.

Brian clutched the holy symbol around his neck with his free hand. He raised a quick silent prayer to Bahamut, that the Platinum Dragon would shine His light down on Calvin, Ylva, and Tiffany, and bless them in this fight. Warmth welled up within him and vanished quickly as it came. Something told him that was a sign of success.

When the dire wolf was within range, Hector slathered some butter on the top of his staff, pointed it at the creature, and painted it across a controlled area. The butter glowed a sick brown before it was consumed. The ground beneath the dire wolf bubbled up in a greasy patch of the same color. The dire wolf and the beast to its left fell upon a splayed limbs. The wolf to the right faltered, but remained upright.

Calvin planted his feet, holding off on his attack until the perfect moment to strike. He would not break formation. They had to come to him.

The fire wolf stood up and rushed out of the grease, slip sliding all the way. Once out it found a burst of speed and ran up to Ylva.

The other wolves in the grease both exited it, one of them after standing. Though free of the difficult terrain, it would still take them a moment to join the fray.

One wolf outside the grease ran up to Brian. It used momentum to leap up as and grab his arm just above the shield. Sharp teeth found gaps in his armor, while the jaw threatened to crush his bones. He gave it a few solid thumps on the head. It let go, but prepared for another strike. Another wolf was on its way over.

A wolf managed to grab hold of Calvin's calf. He reared back and brought his kanabo down. The wolf let go and stumbled a step away, clearly more hurt than its target. Another came up to Calvin, but he managed to dodge the teeth aimed for his throat.

Ylva took a swipe at the dire wolf. Surprisingly fast for its size, the creature sidestepped the blade. With a shout, Ylva came back the other way. This time she managed to carve a channel through its front left thigh.

Tiffany shouldered her weapon and fired at the wolf assailing Brian. Her bolt hit its hind quarters, but did not bury quite as deep as she might have liked. Snarling, she reloaded her weapon.

Instead of drawing his hammer, Brian touched the head of the wolf before him. Thick black energy emanated from his palm and into the canine skull. A withering moan leaked from the wolf's throat. Flesh beneath Brian's palm festered and died. The effect spread until the wolf's whole head was nothing but black rot. It let out one last whimper before succumbing to the wounds. It fell, dead.

Hector took three pecan tarts from his pouch and crushed them. He then waved a feather in the air. A pink mist traveled from him and overtook the leftmost wolf to exit the grease. It fell into a fit of laughter not unlike that of a hyena. So great was the humor, it could not remain standing. It rolled over on its back and cackled with hideous glee.

Calvin crashed his weapon down upon the wolf he'd previously hit, to strike it square on the head. It was piled into the ground chin first. The thing upended to land on its back beside Calvin. It did not move. The other wolf attacking him landed another bite on the same leg, but again did very little damage.

The dire wolf snapped giant jaws at Ylva. They skittered uselessly against her shield.

The laughing wolf recovered from its spat. The thing struggled to stand, clearly exhausted from the recent endeavor.

The wolf running up to Brian finally reached him. It lashed out with barred teeth, but Brian put his shield in the way. The beast pinged off, dazed. Another wolf reached Ylva to attempt a similar tactic, with equally similar results.

Ylva herself ignored the smaller threat. She sliced along the dire wolf's chest. Red coated her blade and trickled to the ground, yet the leader of the pack stood strong.

Tiffany aimed at the new threat compromising Brian. He was still the most injured, and thus in need of the most help. She fired. Her bolt found the wolf's neck. It yelped then fell silent, bleeding out on the grass.

Brian clutched his holy symbol. White light gathered around his hand. A second, and he unleashed it at the dire wolf. The constant undulations of combat made the large target hard to hit. Where it once was, Ylva now stood. She heard the crackling buzz as the beam of light sped toward her. She crouched down at the last second. The Norsewoman shot him an accusatory glare as she stood back up. Brian did his best to look apologetic.

Hector crushed three more tarts and waved around another feather. This time, the pink mist overtook the dire wolf. Unlike its tinier companions, the large beast did not fall prey to the effect. It winced for a moment, but shook off the magic. If a dire wolf could glare, this one most certainly did at Hector.

Calvin gave a mighty swipe at the new wolf attacking him. His attack made a solid impact. Bone crunched beneath the great club. The beast's front left leg was clearly broken by the attack, although it remained upright. It passed a few teeth through Calvin's undamaged leg, but still couldn't do much in the way of meaningful damage.

The dire wolf made another snap at Ylva. Her combat experience was simply too great for the large creature to circumvent. Its attacks were too easy to spot. Ylva put her shield in the way, saving herself again from another attack.

She could not, however, block two things at once, not when they came at drastically different angles. The other wolf at her feet grabbed onto her shin. Some of the teeth wrapped around behind the metal to sink into her calf. With a great yank, the canine pulled Ylva's foot out from under her. She fell upon her back, kicking vainly at the creature with her free leg. It shook like a dog with a squeaky toy, sending terrible pains through Ylva's entire body. She wondered if this was what it felt like to have a hip joint ripped from its socket.

From somewhere within, she gathered the strength to prop up on her shield and lash out with her sword. She cut a deep river across the wolf's face. It yelped and let go, bleeding profusely from a ruined eyeball. The shieldmaiden stood on feet that could barely support her weight.

The wolf Hector had sent into a laughing fit just moments ago saw an opportunity for revenge. It moved around where Ylva struggled with its brothers to lunge at the wizard. Hector, in a panic, put his staff in the way at the last second. The wolf gnawed on it a few times before drawing back in preparation for another attack.

This little altercation prompted a response from Tiffany. She fire a bolt at the wolf trying to bite Hector. But, with the old man blocking the shot, her target was rather small. The projectile went wide. She reloaded.

Brian walked over and placed his shield hand on Ylva's shoulder. The other grabbed his holy symbol. Light traveled through his arm and into her. The bloody punctures on her leg closed up almost completely.

Hector used his telepathic link with Noche to give the bat a simple command: _help_. Noche flew off the building and fluttered around the head of the wolf attacking its master, erratic squeaking circles that the beast flailed around to try and escape. This distraction allowed Hector to get off a spell at point blank range. He said the words in Sylvan and thrust his staff forward. A ray of pure cold shot less than a foot at the beast. Ice formed around its shoulder while the flesh turned black, but it was far from dead.

Calvin couldn't stand the fact that he'd made an attack without killing something. He wound up a giant golf swing and hit his wolf right under the chin. It flew back and landed in a motionless heap. Calvin let out a few ragged breaths before moving up next to the dire wolf.

The dire wolf once again made an attack against Ylva. This time, suppressed by exhaustion and pain, the strike rang true. Her chain mail did nothing to stop the jaws from piecing into her shoulder. It pulled back, ripping cloth, metal, and flesh with those giant teeth. Ylva couldn't even cry out for the agony which rocked through her. She swayed on her feet. The only thing that kept her upright was the shield she managed to lean on.

When the other wolf at her front made a move, she had no hope of defending. It latched onto her armored sword-hand wrist. The bite wasn't hard, and didn't even piece the skin, but it was enough to take her down. The last thing she remembered were distressed screams from both Brian and Hector before the world went dark. She remembered thinking how nice it was that she didn't feel the pain anymore. Her eyes closed. Though breath still came, she was in no condition to fight.

Tiffany felt pure wrath boil up within her. Ylva was the closest thing she had to a friend out here. Nothing, no wolf, nor man, nor God himself, would take that from her. She let loose a bolt at the beast still trying to wrench free Ylva's trapped arm. The projectile found a spot in its chest at a perfect angle to piece straight to the heart. The wolf died before it hit the ground.

Brian, too exhausted to do much more spellcasting, took he only option available to him. He raised up his hand to cast fire upon the dire wolf. The pack leader darted out of the way just long enough to avoid the attack. It then resumed its position over Ylva, ready to dig into the fresh meat.

Hector ripped the healing potion from his pouch and shoved it between Ylva's lips. Just like he'd seen her do for Brian, he lifted up her head just slightly. He wasn't even conscious of the last remaining normal wolf while it tore a chunk from his calf. All that mattered was his friend.

Ylva's eyes flew open. She coughed and sputtered against the liquid still in her throat. Agony took her leg, wrist, and shoulder, but she was alive. Hector removed the empty bottle from her mouth. She looked up at her savior with a soft expression. No words passed between them, for none were needed. Hector knew what she wanted to say. There were more important things to worry about.

Calvin drew back his weapon to slam it upon the back of the wolf harassing Hector. The spine gave way beneath his blow. The wolf clattered to the grass, internally smashed in twain.

The dire wolf didn't like that his last companion had died. It especially hated that its prey kept getting back up. It lashed out at Ylva, who managed to guard her throat with her shield. She kicked it off.

Battered and broken, the woman stood. She locked eyes with the dire wolf. All the hatred she'd ever known seeped to the surface in that moment where their gazes met. She plunged her sword deep in the monster's chest. It struggled against her, yelping in pain, but Ylva dropped her sheild to put both hands on the weapon. She held it in place, cutting off any avenue of escape. Even still, the writhing caused Tiffany to miss her shot.

Brian attacked with sacred fire. Hector, arcane frost. Calvin put all of his strength into a crack at the base of its skull. The dire wolf was strong, but it could only take so much. Its eyes bulged for a second before it crumpled.

The greatest threat clear, Brian drew his war hammer and looked all around. He inspected each of the bodies from afar for any signs of life. None of them moved, nor seemed to draw breath. Still, he kept an eye out. Adrenaline from the battle refused to let him calm down. If there were any more threats, he'd be ready.

"I think you can relax, Bri," Ylva said, a hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't her words, but the touch, which soothed him. Brian's breathing returned to normal. He put away his hammer. The two of them shared weak smiles. She was bloody and in obvious pain, but still went out of her way to calm him down. How could he not, with that in mind?

"Do you really think that's all of them?" Calvin asked, looking around much as Brian had.

"I don't think Wolves attack in waves. We're probably okay," Ylva said.

"No, he's right," interjected Hector. "There's bound to be more of them somewhere, young and sick ones, and the wolves left behind to guard them. We should find their den."

"That won't be necessary," Fredwick said, walking toward them. No one had noticed him leave the house.

"What do you mean?" Asked Hector.

"I've been dealing with wolves and similar creatures my entire life," Fredwick began. "In my experience, if the pack is mostly decimated, the ones left won't be strong enough to be a threat. And, even if they were, they'd figure out this place isn't safe anymore and leave it alone. I think with all this," he looked around, "we can consider the job done."

"So, you'll sign the contract?" Hector carried a hopeful twinge to his voice.

"I will," Fredwick nodded.

Hector pulled the contract from a pocket inside his robes. He handed it to Fredwick, and then dug out a quill and ink pot. The quill he offered up, but the ink remained in his hand. The farmer quickly signed his name on the piece of paper, blew on it a few times to make it dry, before handing it back to the wizard. Hector stoppered up the ink, put it away along with the quill, and rolled the contract back up to be stored again within his clothing.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Bellor," he said.

"No, thank _you_ for helping me. I'll admit I was a bit hesitant about hiring the Adventurer's Guild, but you did fantastic work."

"It's our pleasure."

"Now, I don't think you'll be making it back to Trostenwald before nightfall. I sent my wife and son there to keep them safe, so his room is empty. You all could squeeze into there and the guest room, if you wanted to spend the night."

"I certainly wouldn't object," Hector said. He looked back to the rest of the party, but received no contrary opinions.

"I _really_ don't wanna walk all the way back there in the dark," Calvin said. He gathered nods from Tiffany and Brian.

"Then, if you would be so kind." Hector said with a little bow to Fredwick.

"Of course. I'll show you the way."

"We should skin the wolves before bed," Ylva said, her voice deep with exhaustion. "The pelts could catch a good price."

"I can help you with that. I've butchered a fair few creatures in my time," Fredwick said.

"That would be greatly appreciated."

Brian walked into the house, sure to keep close to Ylva in case she needed help. The cleric wished he had enough strength left to heal her just one more time. Hopefully a good night's rest would see not just Ylva, but all of them healed up.

The five of them were a bit worse for wear. However, the battle went about as well as it could have. The formation they'd devised worked perfectly, only one of them got badly hurt, and—most importantly—no one died. Maybe, just _maybe,_ they were getting the hand of this whole adventuring thing.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those wondering about Calvin's class, he is indeed a barbarian. He didn't rage until now because I wanted to show that they aren't experienced adventurer's yet. I also touched on this with the Brian and Ylva sparring session. Just because they are able to use their new abilities, doesn't mean they know the best way of doing so.**

 **Kind of a disappointing fight for Ylva, after being the MVP of the last two encounters. She couldn't do a whole lot of damage with her weapon. Beyond that, for those who don't know, whenever a wolf lands an attack, the target has to make a DC 13 strength saving throw or be knocked prone. Even though a lot of other people got hit, Ylva was the only one to fail this. It just goes to show that even the strongest member is never safe.**

 **Brian rolled a natural 1 on his Guiding Bolt toward the Dire Wolf. I had him then roll against Ylva's DC to see if he hit her. He did not. Sucks, because Guiding Bolt is a pretty powerful spell at low levels. But, he did manage to to 28 out of a possible 30 damage against the first wolf he killed with Inflict Wounds, so I guess two high damage rolls is just asking too much from the dice.**

 **Tasha's Hideous Laughter was pretty clutch from Hector. Even holding up a wolf for one turn is a big help. Grease was also pretty effective.**

 **Not much to say about Tiffany. She did her job as a rogue, taking advantage of Sneak Attack to do extra damage to already engaged foes. She got two kills, which is great, and probably would've taken out the dire wolf if Calvin hadn't rolled max damage on his last hit.**


	11. Thinking

Tiffany awoke in the middle of the night, as indicated by the pitch black both in and out. As usually happened when she slept in an unfamiliar bed—which wasn't very often, mind—there was a moment of panic as her brain adjusted to the surroundings. It passed soon enough, however, and the blonde remembered she was still in the Bellor farmhouse. Her party decided to stay the night there, which she had been opposed to, but everyone else seemed greatly enthused by the idea so she went along with it.

She quickly took stock of her environment to figure out why she woke up. First, a quick physical examination. Potty break? No. Anything asleep? No. How about sore? No. Okay, hearing check. She couldn't hear anything loud or otherwise intrusive. As for smell, other than the faint smell of chickens—a scent she only just became familiar with—which permeated the entire home, it smelled like nothing at all. So, this must've been just one of those random awake moments everyone had from time to time. Lovely.

A glance to the left revealed through the shadows an empty side of the bed, the covers pulled back past halfway. Since the Bellor son's room already belonged to a boy, the male members of the party decided to take it, leaving the women with the guest room. Now, Tiffany would've been fine sleeping on the floor, but Ylva simply wasn't having it. Through quite a bit of convincing, Tiffany acquiesced to share the single bed with her fellow woman. It would've felt like a childhood sleepover, if not for the swords, armor, a chicken scent.

Tiffany leaned up in bed. It was dark, of course, so she couldn't really see anything past a few inches. Still, nothing in the room obviously moved, which she took to mean Ylva was no longer there. The blonde put herself in a full sit. She took a deep breath and gave her left arm a little stretch. Doing so caught the faintest whiff of a burning candle. From there, putting two and two together wasn't necessarily difficult.

She exited the room and felt her way down the hall. The layout of the home was thankfully simple, so she didn't have to worry about getting lost. A right turn and then all the way down the narrow passage led her to the stairs, which she took _very_ slowly. She never really liked stairs during the daytime, and even less when they were hard to see.

Turning back the other way led her through the family room. She vaguely remembered the layout, where the sofa, rocking chair, coffee table, and fire place were. An attempt was made on her part to thread the gap between the sofa and coffee table. A bump of her thigh into the seat indicated her miserable failure. At least the sound wasn't loud enough to wake anyone up, probably.

From there, Tiffany focused on where the doorway to the kitchen was, beyond which she spotted a faint flickering glow. Following it through the entry found what she sought. Ylva sat alone at the dining table, facing the front door, chin cradled in her palm, a lit candle on a pewter stand to her left. She gave no indication as Tiffany entered that she knew anyone was there.

"Ylva?" The blonde tried carefully.

Ylva took a deep breath. "Hey, Tiff," she said without looking away from the door.

Tiffany bristled internally at the shortening of her name. _No one_ called her _Tiff_. That was a child's name. She forced the bile down. There were more important things to worry about.

"What are you doing out here all alone?" She asked.

"Thinking," Ylva replied simply.

"About what?"

"Some stuff," Ylva continued to be infuriatingly vague. She slightly pulled out a chair to her right. "Don't just stand around, there. Have a seat."

Tiffany hesitated, but took a seat. There was silence between them for a moment. Ylva _clearly_ wasn't feeling very good. No one sat alone with a candle in the middle of the night if they were happy. But what should she say? How could Tiffany get through to her, whatever she needed help with?

"Do..." God, she wasn't good at this. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," Ylva frowned and shook her head.

Tiffany gazed at the table. _That_ didn't work. What was her plan B? Luckily, she didn't need one.

"It's just—" Ylva began, then let out the rest of her breath. "I was thinking about the fight."

"The fight?" Tiffany wondered aloud. "What's wrong about that? We won, didn't we?"

"You guys won. I'm not so sure I did."

"I... don't think I follow," Tiffany said.

"I mean, think about our last fight in comparison with the one before it," Ylva said. "I dominated against the rats and the crazy guy, but I couldn't do anything to the wolves. I carried our first fight, but I _got_ carried through this one."

"That's not true at all—" Tiffany began to protest.

"But it is! I didn't kill anything, couldn't protect Hector like I was supposed to, got knocked down twice, and was healed twice. The entire team had to adjust their strategy to make up for my mistakes, and how did I repay them? I got knocked out. I really—what's the term? I really dropped the ball."

"Literally no one thinks that," Tiffany countered. "I don't, and I'm sure the boys don't, either."

"I'm sure they appreciate you speaking for them," Ylva snarked.

Tiffany sighed. "Do you remember what you said to me, when I lost it back in that basement?"

"I said a lot of things to you," Ylva remarked. "Sorry, by the way. I shouldn't have kicked you."

" _We survive together_ ," Tiffany quoted. "You said we're a team. The success of this party isn't just your responsibility."

"It kind of is, though. I'm the only one with real combat experience, the only one who's been in a fight with real metal weapons. That's why I have to lead you guys, and I can't do that from the ground."

"But you _do_ lead us," implored Tiffany. "As far as I'm concerned, you're the closest thing we have to a leader. You carried us through both fights with the rats. The formation we used this time was _your_ idea. So you got knocked down, so what? That's why the rest of us are here, to pick you up."

Ylva had no reponse to that. She looked away from Tiffany and instead seemed to evaluate the texture of the table top. Tiffany wasn't sure if she should, but the blonde decided to fill the silence with more of her own words.

"In high school, my cheer coach always emphasized the importance of working together. Everyone has their own job in a routine. If they don't do it, no matter how small, the entire thing falls apart. We had to depend on each other, to _trust_ each other. I really don't understand any of this," Tiffany made a floppy gesture meant to encompass the whole world, "but I don't see why it has to be any different."

Ylva smirked. "It makes perfect sense that you were a cheerleader," she joked. "Let me guess, you were a flyer?"

"Ha ha," Tiffany mocked. "I'm small, I get it, how funny. But yes, I was," she said with a grin. "The point I'm trying to make is, you're not in this alone. I think it's okay to depend on your teammates."

"You're right," Ylva said after a moment. "And I _know_ you're right. I've been trying to tell myself that for the past hour, but I guess I needed to hear it from someone else. So, thanks."

"Of course."

"I guess this makes us even, now," Ylva said. "I helped you out of a funk, and now you've helped me. We're one for one."

"Yeah. Or, we could just not keep track," suggested Tiffany.

"That works, too." Ylva gave a big yawn and stretched, which Tiffany had to admit was adorable. "Fuck I'm tired. I'm going back to bed."

"That sounds amazing," agreed Tiffany.

"Thanks again, Tiff."

"You're welcome."

Ylva pinched out the candle and both of them made their ways through the dark up to their temporarily shared abode. Tiffany didn't even mind the use of the unwanted nickname. Maybe, coming from certain people, it wasn't so bad.

…

Sunrise found them on their way back to Trostenwald. Hector had gotten them up as the sun had just started to rise. He wanted to make it back to town before they lost too much daylight, and Brian silently agreed with him, though he would've appreciated a few more hours of sleep. Regardless, after a quick breakfast of bread and the freshest eggs he'd ever had, they were off.

The trip back was uneventful as their journey from town the day prior. The roads so close to a major trading hub were well guarded, as they should be. The party passed no less than three Righteous Brand patrols, their plate over red outfits and long mail hauberks. Each of them contained around four or five soldiers, but one had eight with an officer on horseback. Brian assumed him to be an officer, anyway. Otherwise, why would he be the only one with a mount?

The teams' first stop back in town was to sell the wolf pelts to that coat maker Ylva mentioned. Good riddance, really. Brian didn't say anything for the feelings of his party member, but he'd grown tired of the smelly things within a few minutes of carting them around. The sooner they were rid of them, the better. They needed to invest in either a cart or a bag of holding as a way to avoid this sort of thing in the future.

After a little bit of haggling, the regular wolf pelts sold for ten gold, while the dire wolf skin went for seventy. The resulting one-hundred thirty gold were split evenly amongst the members. Brian hoped for more, but certainly knew better than to turn his nose up at twenty-six new coins.

Their next stop was back at the guild hall to turn in the contract to Edgar. After a question to quartermaster Therdin, they found the old man in his quarters. Brian had a feeling this was where they would usually talk to Edgar. He probably didn't leave much. Hector stepped forward an knocked on the door.

"Enter," came the immediate response from within. Hector led the way inside.

The room looked almost identical to the last time Brian saw it, complete with Edgar sitting at the same desk just beyond the entrance, pouring over some tome with a quill and ink scribbling notes on a separate piece of paper.

"Ah, back already," Edgar said, turning to face them in his seat. "You're well within the expected timetable."

"Yeah, well, we got lucky," Calvin said. "Made the wolves come to us."

"There's no such thing as _luck_ , boy," Edgar said. "But, I take it to mean you completed the contract?"

"Yes, we did." Hector handed the rolled up parchment to Edgar, who took it without a word. He unrolled it to have a look.

"This Fredwick fellow has atrocious handwriting," Edgar remarked. "Regardless, his signature is binding. Well done." The contract glowed purple then dissolved into ash, leaving Brian to once again wonder what exactly happened to it. "The prize is twelve hundred gold pieces. Use them as you see fit."

Edgar reached into a sleeve and pulled out a much larger coin purse than last time they'd all been down this road. He placed it on the far corner of his desk. Tiffany, as the closest, shatched it up, visibly shaken for a moment at the weight of it.

"Twelve hundred?" Calvin remarked with wide eyes. "That's one stacked farmer if he can pay twelve hundred for a few wolves."

"The Bellor family only paid three hundred," Edgar explained. "The rest was provided by our sponsors throughout Exandria, a stipend provided by the Empire for helping keep the peace, and a little from our own coffers. Most contracts are paid in this way."

"You have sponsors?" Brian asked.

"We do," Edgar nodded. "Several wealthy families and organizations donate to our cause. We keep them safe, and they help us provide the means of doing so. It is a mutually beneficial relationship."

"Makes sense to me," Hector shrugged.

"So," Edgar brought things back on track. "Now that your current contract is complete, take a little time to rest. I can have something for you in another week."

"No." Ylva stepped forward, separating herself from the group. "We talked about it as a group, and we want to go back out as soon as possible. We still want an audience with the Meister, and if the only way to do that is to rise through the ranks in the Guild, then that's what we want to do."

"Very well," Edgar said without missing a beat. "I'm sure I can find something for you in the next few days, then."

"Thank you."

"Now, if there's nothing else, you may be dismissed."

There was nothing else, so they were dismissed.

On the way back to the rooms, Brian was struck by how unmoved he felt. They just successfully journeyed out of town, completed a mission, and reaped the rewards from it, yet inside he was almost completely calm. All he really wanted to do was kick back, take off his armor, and unwind for a bit.

Without the foreboding sense of mystery surrounding their first mission, he wasn't anxious. Without the exhilaration of his first ever fight, he wasn't keyed up. Without having went unconscious, he wasn't afraid. Brian felt next to nothing at all. Indeed, it reminded him greatly of coming home on Friday after a long week at work.

He hated it. Brian didn't want to get used to this. He didn't want to be an adventurer. There was, yes, a part of him that thrilled at the prospect of going on quests and fighting monsters, and he pushed it down every single day. More than anything, he just wanted to go home, like everyone else who'd been forcibly taken from Earth. So why was he settling in? It was only the second ever successful mission, and third ever victory. Why did it feel so routine?

Brian made it back to the room he shared with the other men on his team. Instead of taking the armor off, he climbed up on his bunk and just sat there for a while. It would take him a long time to reset his head space, to make a return to his overarching goal of making it back home in one piece. No matter what, he refused to get swept up. This place, amazing as it was, would _never_ take over him. If it did, would he forget about his real home? That prospect terrified him to his very core. He was Brian Jeffries, single accountant born and raised in New York. He needed to remember that, lest he forget his entire goal for Exandria, lest he no longer want to escape.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES:** **A whole bunch of perception checks for Tiffany at the beginning of this one. I knew she would discover Ylva in the kitchen, but I wanted to see how. I gave each of her senses a roll. I'll admit I don't remember the exact rolls at this point, but her nose rolled the highest, so that's what I went with. I also gave Ylva a roll to see if she accepted Tiffany's advice or not.**

 **Please remember to leave a review.**


	12. A Little Celebration

The day after the wolf quest began just the same as their first mission, with a bit of shopping. This trip, though was quite a bit less informal. The five of them embarked on a pre-determined path, on their way to a specific destination. Directions provided earlier by Therdin guided their feet, with Hector and Ylva abreast in the front to interpret them. Brian and Tiffany walked next to each other behind them. Calvin, who had been less than excited about this whole thing, brought up the rear.

Trostenwald looked about the same as it always did around midday. People milled about the dusty streets with little mind to anything around them. Music poured from a nearby tavern. A particularly loud merchant hawked his goods somewhere in the distance. There was a liveliness in its sleepy attitude. The citizens here were an easy going lot, but no one would ever call them lazy. They just lived at a slower pace than those city folk. The New Yorker in Brian admired that.

They traversed identical roads, passed by nondescript buildings and through similar squares. Brian was somewhat familiar with the main street that led from the Adventurer's Guild, but the rest of Trostenwald escaped him. A combination of unfamiliar architecture and a lack of signage caused the confusion. To the people brought up in this world, it was probably nothing special. To an outsider, it was an impossible maze.

"This place is so big," Tiffany remarked as the only person perhaps more lost than Brian.

"It's more medium sized by Exandrian standards," Brian said.

"Did the Great and Powerful Matt Mercer tell you that?" Tiffany snarked.

"Yes, actually," said Brian with a grin. Tiffany tolled her eyes.

"Why does it feel so huge, then?" Tiffany continued. Calvin snickered from behind them.

"It's probably because you're used to driving everywhere," explained Brian. "You don't really get a sense of how long a mile is in a car. I didn't have a car for the longest time back home. Let me tell you, the difference between walking and driving in Manhattan is astounding."

"You're from New York? " Calvin piped up.

"Yeah," Brian twisted his body to face him.

"Where abouts?"

"Greenwich,"

"I'm from Queens, man!" Exclaimed Calvin.

"Seriously?" Brian breathed.

They did a handshake-to-fistbump thing that Brian was entirely too White for.

"Small world, ain't it?" Marveled Calvin.

"I know, right? What are the chances?" Brian returned his enthusiasm.

"You'll have to hit me up when we get through all this."

"Definitely."

They walked on for what felt like about another half hour, though probably not quite that long. It was sufficient, however, for Brian to become hopelessly lost. For what was probably the hundredth time that trip, he thanked Bahanut that someone else led the party. Maybe he would look for a map while they were out. That would certainly help with his sense of direction problem.

Eventually they came to their destination, a little shop snuggled between two larger buildings, made mostly of pale stone and with a wide open entrance. Walking inside, an inexplicable smell of wet spicy mold assaulted Brian's nose. Shelves on every wall were stacked with colorful vials, bottles, and a few jugs. Various ingredients took up the spots where glassware did not, things like dried leaves, grasses, a chicken's foot, a newt's tail, some sparkly red dust, and even a preserved eyeball. The only gap in the storage was a narrow entryway in the far right corner.

Behind a long counter by the left wall stood a cute little elf girl, tan complexion, a pointed chin, and a big smile. She looked young, even by elven standards. There was a bounce in her brown ringlets as she turned to see the new entrants to her shop.

"Ah, hello!" She called, clapping her hands together below her chin. "Welcome to _Ashla's Assorted Alchemical_! I'm Leithlee."

"Not Ashla?" Calvin joked as he stepped further into the store.

"No, Ashla is my mother. She's out right now so I'm watching the store."

The party stepped up to the counter. Leithlee swept her gaze over them. That huge smile never faltered even a millimeter.

"What can I do for you all today?" She asked.

"We're with the Adventurer's Guild," Hector began.

"Yes, I can tell," Leithlee said.

"What? How?" Ylva asked. A valid question, since none of them wore armor and only she and Brian were armed.

"Well, you're not rowdy enough to be just a bunch of friends, not uncomfortable enough to be work associates, not mean enough to be mercenaries, and you're not wearing anything official. So, you must be adventurers," explained Leithlee. "You pick up on this sort of thing, dealing with the public in a place like this."

"I guess that makes sense," Ylva shrugged.

"It actually makes this easier," agreed Hector. "We don't have to explain why we're looking for potions of healing."

"Excellent." Leithlee ducked behind the counter, talking as she went. "As you can imagine, the Guild activity keeps me kind of tapped when it comes to healing, but I should have a few left." She paused for a few seconds. "Ah, here we go!"

The elf popped back up with a small wooden crate in her hands. She set it down. The three smaller vials and one larger bottle rattled against one another.

"The small ones are standard potions of healing, and the bigger one is a greater," she said.

"Great. And how much for each?" Inquired Hector.

"The standard will run you fifty gold a piece, while the greater is two-hundred fifty."

"I think the greater is a bit too rich for our blood. I certainly don't have enough." Hector looked to his companions, all of whom gave him negative responses.

"I don't even have enough, and I think I have the most," Tiffany said.

"Well, we can still take the standard ones. Who needs a potion?" Hector moved on.

"I still have mine," Brian said, raising his hand slightly.

"And I have mine," echoed Tiffany.

"I never had one," Calvin offered.

"Really, Cal," admonished Ylva. "That seems like a really obvious thing for a frontline fighter to have."

"Hey, I had bigger problems when we were all picking our gear," Calvin nearly snapped. Ylva put up her hands defensively.

"This works out perfectly, actually," Hector said. "If you, Ylva, and I each buy a potion, then we all have one."

"Sounds good to me," Calvin said. Ylva nodded.

"So, that's all three of the standard potions of healing, then?" Leithlee chimed in.

"Yes, we'll take them," confirmed Hector.

The three who were making purchases each handed over fifty gold pieces. In exchange, Leithlee provided them with tall vials filled almost all the way up to the cork with thick red liquid.

"Excellent. Is there anything else?" Leithlee gave them all expectant looks.

"Maybe," Hector said. "I'm a bit of a spellcasting sort, myself. I was wondering if you had anything in the way of arcane components?"

"Hmm..." Leithlee trailed off, momentarily deep in thought. "Not specifically, but we do have a bunch of random ingredients laying around. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for?"

"That's what I was hoping," Hector said with a nod.

"Alright then. Come on, let me show you around!"

Leithlee gave him a little tour of the shop. He found a few dried up fireflies, some pork rind, charcoal and incense, and a few other assorted things he thought might come in handy later on. The only things he didn't find were any little tarts. He did, however, locate the ingredients to make some himself out of raisins, flower, and butter. The entire affair cost him twenty-one gold.

When all was said and done, the party bade their goodbyes to Leithlee and exited the establishment.

The sounds of music flooded over them again as they returned to the guild hall. It was only natural to pass the same tavern twice if they cut an identical path back whence they came. The establishment itself sounded much busier than before, though the difference was only a few minutes. Conversation spilled out around the tunes, and laughter erupted from somewhere deep within. Brian took a long look inside as they passed.

"You know," he said, "I've never actually been to a proper tavern before."

"You've never been to a bar?" Asked Calvin.

"No, I've been to a bar. A tavern is more like a pub. I've never been to one," clarified Brian.

Ylva stopped. The others gathered around her. "We should go in, then. Celebrate our recent victories."

"That's an excellent idea," agreed Hector.

"I can't go to a bar," Tiffany protested. "I'm still underage."

"What, really?" Calvin said. "How old are you, then?"

Tiffany hesitated before answering. "Twenty."

"I could've sworn you were older," remarked Calvin. Brian wanted to slug him for his complete lack of tact.

"No one's gonna force you to drink, Tiff," Ylva reassured her. "But, I don't think legal age is really a thing here. I mean, who's gonna stop you, the cops?"

"There are cops here," Tiffany countered.

"Something tells me the Crownsguard has bigger problems," said Brian.

"I guess," Tiffany shrugged.

"I still think it sounds like fun. We've done well in our last two missions. We deserve to have a little fun," Hector said.

"That's what _I'm_ saying!" Echoed Ylva.

"Come on, then, lets go in." Hector pushed back through his team and led them to the tavern.

They spilled single-file through the open door. A bar dotted by patrons dominated the far wall. A portly human man poured drinks and spoke with his customers. There was a space stretching to it from the door wide enough for three people to stand abreast. Tables occupied the rest of the space, while booths lined the walls. They were close enough to facilitate easy conversation between tables. A thin stage ran along the far left corner. On it stood an elf girl with a flute, a halfling who pounded on a drum, and a man with what looked like a guitar, but Brian knew it was actually called a _yarting_. It sounded just like a guitar to him.

The place was mildly busy at this hour just past midday. Three tables and four booths were occupied. Two of the latter played host to games of dice, which was where Brian suspected the laughter came from. These people were a colorful lot, made from all sizes, shapes, and races. Brian even caught sight of his first dragonborn, a copper scaled fellow watching one of the dice games.

As the party entered, a human waitress crossed from one side to the other, a tray gripped overhand. She stopped to address the party.

"Welcome to _Bozo's Brews and Beds_. Just have a seat wherever you like and I'll be right with you."

"Thank you, miss," Hector said with a nod.

He led the party to a booth against the left wall. Brian took the far side of the table, all the way over to the wall, his preferred seat. It allowed him to snuggle up into the corner, which he promptly did. Tiffany sat down daintily beside him, while Ylva took the aisle. Calvin, and then Hector, sat across from them.

"This place ain't so bad," Calvin said, looking around.

"Love the music," commented Ylva, her eyes closed for a moment.

"It's a lot emptier than I expected," said Brian. "With all the noise, I thought there'd be more people."

"They certainly are a boisterous lot," agreed Hector with a glance to the dice games.

"What do you think, Tiff? Cozy?" Ylva asked.

"It's... nice?" Tiffany said with a squint.

"You don't like it," determined Ylva.

"No, it's fine. I'm just used to... _quieter_ places." Tiffany chose her words with caution.

"How white are the collars in these places?" Calvin managed to sound both curious and disapproving. Tiffany didn't answer him.

For the second time in just about an hour, Brian wanted to call Calvin out for being so graceless. The waitress returned after a few seconds, saving them from an awkward silence in the process.

"So, what can I get for all of you," she asked with a painfully rehearsed smile.

"Well, it was my idea to come here, so why don't I start us off with a round?" suggested Ylva. There were no complaints. She addrssed the waitress. "We'll have five mugs of your best ale."

"Our _best_ ale? That'll run you three gold," warned the waitress.

"A fair price." Ylva extracted a few coins from her pocket. "And one for you."

"Thank you very much, ma'am. Be back in a moment." The waitress dropped the coins in the pocket on her apron and flitted away.

Say one thing about this establishment, the service was quick. Of course, that was probably because there were very few people around. The party didn't even have time to strike up another decent rapport before the waitress returned, somehow holding five drinks in her two hands. They came in mugs the size of a large coffee mug, the kind that held about twelve ounces. The vessels were shod from wood with long blocky handles. Kind of small, but Ylva did specify _mug_. A decent note for later.

"Here you are." The waitress placed a drink before each party member. "Anything else? We just got a fresh shipment of venison from the market. Our chef makes a mean deer steak."

There were looks around the table of uncertainty. Calvin and Brian both shrugged.

"Maybe later," Ylva said. "I'll admit, we didn't think that far ahead."

"Alright. Well, if you want anything, just grab me and I'll go put it in for you."

"Thanks."

"Of course, dear. Enjoy your drinks." With that, the waitress departed.

Ylva wasted no time taking a big sip of her beverage. Both Calvin and Hector were right behind. It was a bit disconcerting to watch Calvin, who was clearly still a teenager, ingest the alcohol without even flinching. Indeed, he drank like it was no big deal.

Wrapped up in the moment, Brian took a sip from his mug. In doing so, he realized he'd never actually had ale before. Beer, yes, but not proper ale. The flavor was dark and rich, vaguely sweet as it if had hints of honey. Not too bitter, but with a pronounced bite, it went down easy. He assumed the lower shelf drinks would be much more difficult to manage. In a way, then, it was good to start with this.

With everyone having had a good sampling, it was obvious that one of them had not. Tiffany just sat almost ramrod still, staring at her mug while loose finger played with the long handle. Staring deep in thought into a drink was a sight Brian had observed at many a bar before, but usually it belonged to stressed out middle-class folks with nothing better to do. Tiffany had been less than certain to enter the establishment at all, so seeing her so conflicted struck Brian funny.

"Everything alright, Tiffany?" He asked. The blonde started at the sound of her own name. She flashed him an accusatory look, then went back to starring.

"I, uh... I've never actually had alcohol before," she said.

"First time for everything, right?" Ylva gave her junior a hearty pat on the back, which Tiffany didn't seem to appreciate. "Just start with a small sip, see what you think."

Tiffany hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"We won't force you," Ylva said, "but I'd like if you'd join us. We're supposed to be having fun. So, come on, loosten up!" To punctuate her statement, Ylva took a swill.

"No one's stopping me, if that's what you're worried about." Calvin also took a drink before adding his two cents.

Tiffany gripped her mug in both hands. She starred at it, nails drumming against the fine wood. She took a deep breath, and brought it to her lips. The following sip resulted in wide eyes as she quickly set it down. She began to splutter and choke.

"Oh God, that's awful," she said between coughs. Ylva and Calvin laughed at her. She regained her breath before continuing. "It tastes like moldy bread! People actually drink this for _fun_?"

"It's a bit of an acquired taste," Ylva said through a big grin.

"I don't think I want to acquire it." Tiffany looked at the ale as if it physically attacked her.

"Maybe wine would be more your speed. We'll get some for our next round," Ylva said with a pat on Tiffany's shoulder.

"Come on, don't turn her into a basic white girl yet," Calvin said. "She's already halfway there," Calvin said.

"Nothing wrong with a little wine." Hector took a sip. "It used to be the drink of kings."

"I thought that was chocolate," Brian said.

"You're thinking of gods, not kings," corrected Ylva. Brian cocked his head to one side in acknowledgment.

"Depending on who you talk to, those are the same thing," said Hector.

What followed was a night of many drinks and much laughter.

…

After the round of wine, which Brian covered, everyone became much more comfortable. As an admitted lightweight, Brian was already feeling the starts of a buzz in the back of his head. This stuff was much stronger than what he normally found back on Earth. Even Tiffany, finding the wine palatable, was talking more.

Currently, Ylva had her right elbow on the table, sleeve pulled up to reveal a grizzly looking pink scar just below the shoulder.

"This is probably the worst one. Cut right to the bone," she said.

"Why would you ever fight with real swords?" Tiffany admonished.

"I was young and stupid, and HEMA wasn't really a thing when I was in high school. Interest in it didn't really peak until about ten years ago," Ylva said.

"Ok, but why not use wood or something?" Tiffany continued to be the voice of reason for past Ylva.

"Where's the fun in that?" Ylva countered. "To us, we weren't just practicing, we were real warriors fighting real duels. You don't fight duels with wooden swords."

"Still..." Tiffany was unsatisfied.

"I think it's kinda cool," Brian said. "You were a fighter even before you became a fighter."

"What about you then?" Ylva asked him. "Got an scars, Bri?"

"Nope," he shook his head. "I'd never even been in a fight before we killed all those rats."

"You serious?" Wondered Calvin aloud.

"Completely. I'd never been in a fight. I've never cut myself, I've never broken a bone."

"But, I mean, look at you," Tiffany said. "You're thinner than I am. A strong breeze should hurt you."

"Lots of tall buildings where I'm from. They block the wind," Brian said. "What about you? Ever broken a bone?"

"Twice actually," Tiffany nodded. "I broke my left arm in a cheerleading accident, and my foot during a soccer game."

"How'd the accident happen?" Hector asked.

"The way they all do for fliers. My bases didn't catch me, and it folded underneath me."

That drew collective winces from around the table. Calvin shivered and made a disgusted face.

…

"So then Manuel and I started throwing rocks at it." Hector leaned over the table telling his story, speech a little slurred. They'd all hit the cups a bit, at this point. Brian was the only one showing a bit of discretion.

"Did you hit it?" Calvin asked.

"Of course not, it's a cobra! It was like throwing rocks at a moving pencil," Hector said.

"What happened next?" Ylva hung off every word, more invested than anyone else at the table.

"It started slithering toward us, head up like it wanted to bite. Esteban took off running, then the rest of us did, too. It chased us, hissing the whole time."

"No, stop!" Tiffany covered her face with one hand, peeking through her fingers. "I hate snakes."

"Meh," deflected Calvin. "They ain't gonna hurt ya if you don't bother them."

"This one sounded like it wanted to hurt someone," Tiffany countered.

Ylva pinched at Tiffany's shoulder with her hand, snapping as if it were a snake. The blonde yelped and recoiled from the attack.

"I'm serious, stop!" She begged.

"Alright, alright," Ylva said, chuckling. "I'm sorry."

"I'm still gonna finish my story," Hector said, drawing a groan from Tiffany.

…

At one point, the band stopped playing. Brian noticed this coincided with the sun going down completely. They probably needed a bit of rest after entertaining for so long. Their presence was missed, but the tavern would not be without music for long. Perhaps it was the now plentiful booze in his system, but Calvin got up and grabbed the abandoned yarting. On his way back he gave it a few experimental strums, just to confirm it was pretty much exactly like a guitar. Satisfied, he sat on the corner of his side of the booth.

Deft fingers plucked out a rhythm, something both pretty and simple. Brian would've been impressed enough with just that, but his jaw hit the floor when Calvin began to sing.

 _There's a steel train coming soon_

 _I would take it if I could_

 _And I would not lie to you, because_

 _Sunday morning soon will come_

 _When things will be much easier to say_

 _Upon the microphone like a Boss DJ_

 _But I won't walk up upon the sea like it was dry land_

 _A Boss DJ ain't nothing but a man_

 _No trouble, no fuss, I know why_

He had a rich voice, a pleasant middle tone, not too high nor low. he inebriation he doubtless felt gave no impact on the performance. Either that, or Brian couldn't tell. The elation he felt during the performance was surpassed only by the disappointment when Calvin only played one song.

…

Brian had no idea what time it was when they finally decided to call it a night. He reckoned none of them did. Hector covered their last round, Calvin left a tip for the waitress, and they headed out. The old man led them, leaning heavily on his stick. Tiffany, bless her heart, passed out completely several minutes prior. Calvin scooped her up in a bridal carry to bring her home. She looked even tinier than usual in his big hands.

Ylva insisted on being the last one out. Brian walked a few steps ahead of her. He'd gone rather light on the ale during their time at the tavern. Ylva, not so much. Her steps behind him sounded quite obviously uneven and clumsy. He glanced over his shoulder to see her taking big, unsteady steps down the little corridor of tables to the entrance. She almost fell onto one of them, but caught herself just in time. The dwarf who's drink she almost spilled gave her a cursory glance before returning to his group. Brian just shook his head.

He made it out of the building and turned left to follow his companions who were steadily getting further away. A few feet revealed that Ylva was not with him. Brian turned to find her—as he expected—slowly making her way down the street on wobbly knees.

"Ylva," he said, moving back to her. "Let me help you, you're drunk."

"So are you," she slurred. "Just look at how you're swaying."

"I'm not swaying, _you_ are," Brian countered.

"...Oh." Ylva made an attempt to arrest her unconscious movement, which resulted in a stumble. Again, she barely caught herself from toppling over.

Brian sighed. "Come on, let's go."

He turned around. Without even thinking, Brian took her wrist and laid her arm across his shoulders. She leaned into him, letting him support most of her weight. Brian doubted she was actually heavy, but he wasn't a very strong guy. It took him a second to adjust to her weight before setting off.

Ylva did her best to keep pace with him, but he ended up partially dragging her through the streets. She had to press up close to him in order to remain upright. She was somehow both soft and solid at the same time, like a rock covered in delicate satin. Brian could both feel her gentle breaths against his back, and also hear them from where her chin rested on his shoulder. It would've been nice had she not reeked of alcohol.

They walked on in silence for a moment. Ylva had her eyes closed, a pleased smile on her face. That luxurious dark hair partially covered her face so her green eyes only peeked through when it swished just right in time with their motion. They seemed to glow in the fire lit torchlight of the Trostenwald evening.

"Did you have fun tonight?" She asked eventually.

"I did," Brian nodded. "I haven't gone out drinking for a while, so it was nice."

"That's good." Ylva stretched her shoulders, which temporarily saw her squish even closer to him. "That's good."

"I would ask you the same thing, but I think that's obvious," Brian joked.

Ylva chuckled. "I might've gone a little overboard."

"That's alright. I think we deserve to cut loose every now an then," Brian said.

They were quiet again for a bit. Ylva settled in some more, now almost completely letting Brian carry her. After a while she spoke again.

"You know, you remind me a lot of my fiance," she remarked, sounding half asleep.

"Yeah?" He wasn't sure how else to respond.

"Yeah. You don't look anything alike, of course. He's a little shorter than me with a bushy black beard, but you're both kind, and honest, and patient, and sweet, and always trying to help people. You're even both Clerics of Bahamut, though he's Life Domain," Ylva said.

"Thanks, I guess," Brian said.

"I'm just saying. I know you're not always the most confident guy, but you should be. I mean, you're totally my type. That has to count for something, right?"

Brian didn't respond, glad for the night to conceal the color in his cheeks. His silence was incentive for Ylva to keep going.

"And, I think you're handsome. If I'd met you first, who knows what would've happened?" She said.

Brian's heart skipped a beat, and he so wished it hadn't.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: I took a page from the Dungeon Dudes and rolled some dice to see what healing potions would be available, and how many. My d6 said three regular, one greater. I didn't try for anything higher. I also rolled for Ylva's little snake bite against Tiffany, just to see if it hit. Even with her boozy disadvantage, she still got a 17. This isn't the first time she's done very well with non-serious attack rolls, as she also did very well in her sparring match with Brian. It figures that Ylva rolls her highest when she isn't actually trying to hurt anyone.**


	13. A Learning Opportunity

Brian did a quick check to make sure he had everything. Hammer, coin pouch, holy symbol, phone... Hammer, coin pouch, holy symbol, _phone_... Where was his phone? Panic overtook him. He patted himself down, checking all of his pockets multiple times, and even places the device could never possibly be, like his tunic or his hair. Despite his best efforts, no sign of the thing.

Soon as the panic came, it vanished. Brian let out a long sigh. Of _course_ he didn't have his phone. He hadn't for a few weeks now, and he never would long as he remained in Exandria. This wasn't the first time he'd done this, either. Having had a cell phone of some form since high school, it was so weird for him to go any amount of time without one. Even trapped in a fantasy world, he still instinctively went for it almost every time before leaving the boys' room in the Guild Hall. Old habits died hard.

With a mostly successful attempt to rest this embarrassment from his mind, Brian exited the room. As the last to leave, he found his friends waiting in the hallway. Ylva was the only one in full armor, but they all toted weapons. They'd been summoned, not by Edgar, but by Therdin. None of them communicated about this specifically, but they clearly all had the same thought. If the quartermaster wanted to see them, it probably had something to do with weapons.

Hector took his normal spot in front to lead the group to the armory. There they found Therdin hanging a poleaxe up on an empty hook where the rest of the polearms were. He had is long red hair back in a ponytail, which made him look even more handsome than normal. The party members fanned out as they approached.

"Therdin!" Ylva called out.

The elf turned at the sound of his name. He transfixed Ylva with his signature gigantic smile and approached. They clasped forearms.

"Good to see you, Ylva," Thredin said before releasing.

"And you," she agreed. "Sorry I haven't been down to visit you for a while."

"Ah, thing nothing of it," Therdin batted the notion away. "I know you adventurers are a busy lot."

"You summoned us, Therdin?' Hector kept the conversation moving.

"Yes, I did." Therdin spoke as he fiddled around with a pouch at his waist. "I have a contract for you." He extracted a rolled up bit of paper obviously too long for the pouch which contained it.

" _You_ have a contract for us?" Calvin asked.

"I thought Edgar managed assignments," echoed Brian.

"He does most of them, yes, but he's only one man, and we get a lot of requests. So, I step in and help him out, mostly with lower level stuff so he can focus on the bigger jobs," explained Therdin.

"Let's see it, then," Hector prompted. Therdin handed him the contract. Hector unrolled it while the others gathered around to read over his shoulder.

"You're headed to Ebenestadt, a little town south of here," Therdin said. "One of the residents has hired us to obtain an heirloom chalice which was recently stolen from them."

"Anything you can tell us about the chalice?" Ylva asked.

"I'm afraid not. They didn't provide any details. The contract was given by an Alice Dullon. You could probably ask her for further information."

"And where can we find Ebenestadt?" Brian asked.

"It's a little ways south of here. Follow the Amber Road down until you see a an old square sign you can't read anymore surrounded by three flagstones. Take the trail west through a small copse of trees and Ebenestadt is on the other side. If you leave now and travel through the night, you can get there before this time tomorrow. I don't suggest doing that, though."

"Yeah, that sounds like a bad idea," agreed Ylva. She recieved nods from Brian, Hector, and Calvin.

"Do you accept the contract, then?" Therdin asked. Five sets of eyes locked on him in confusion.

"You mean we have a choice?" Calvin was the first to say what was on everyone's mind.

"Well, no, not really. You have to accept _a_ contract when summoned, but I like to give people options. I have others, if you'd rather take a look at them," Therdin said.

"I don't think any one contract will be too different from any other," Ylva said.

"I agree," added Hector. "We might as well go with this one." His proposal received no complaints. Even Tiffany seemed to accept it. "Alright, then, we'll take it."

"Wonderful!" Therdin gave Hector a hearty clap on the bicep. "I really do suggest you leave as soon as possible. Completion of the contract relies on recovery of the chalice. The longer you wait, the greater the risk of it going missing entirely."

"Give us some time to gather our things, and we'll be on our way," Hector said.

"Excellent. Thank you so much for your help."

"Of course, Therdin," Ylva nodded. "See you when we get back."

"You'd better."

With that, the two groups parted ways.

At Therdin's suggestion, they prepared to leave right away. Brian put on his armor with a little help from Hector, who then put on his robe and gathered his spell book. Calvin wore that leather outfit he had when they first met. It made him feel more like a warrior, and Brian had to admit it suited him. They met up with the girls, who were also armed and armored.

Before departing, they stocked up on supplies. Bread, water, fruit, dried meat, hard cheese, that sort of thing. By Ylva's reasoning, they didn't know where they were going, and their destination might not have an inn, so they needed to overstock a bit, just to be safe. As the only ones with proper packs, Brian, Ylva, and Hector toted all of the supplies with them. That out of the way, they together set out through Trostenwald's southern gate, their first time doing so.

What followed was an uneventful day of travel. Brian was quickly finding this to be the worst part about being an adventurer. Back on Earth, he'd always hated driving. To him, it was a waste of time between points A and B. He had to do something at point B, but he couldn't actually do anything until he arrived, which required driving. He accomplished nothing in that time. No, none of this made any sense, but it didn't have to. He hated driving, and that was that. Walking the Amber Road gave him the exact same sensation.

When the sun started to go down, it was time to consider making camp for the night. The road snaked through a little forest area, which they all agreed would make the perfect shelter. Ylva found them a clearing to build a small fire pit in. They had a supper of bread, dried meat, and fruit before bedding down.

They left the fire at a glowing ember so they had a least some light with which to see in the pitch darkness. Ylva took the first watch. Brian thought it would be difficult to find rest on the cold hard ground, but exhaustion from the day's travel saw him out like a log in just a few minutes.

Unfortunately for him, he'd volunteered for second watch. So, this rest was short lived. He awoke to Ylva jostling him awake by the shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, turning them to meet his companion's glorious green.

"Anything?" He asked.

"Nothing." Ylva shook her head. "Seems quiet out there."

"Good, that makes me feel better," Brian said, turning to face the road south.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," insisted Ylva. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Get some sleep," said Brian.

"Okay, then. See you in the morning," Ylva said with an adorable yawn.

"Yeah, see ya."

Tiffany had left a little spot between herself and the fire. Ylva wriggled into the gap and laid on her side, all but cuddling with the smaller girl. Brian smiled at them before returning his attentions to the forest.

And so, his watch began. The first hour or so went by without a hitch. He couldn't' see a damned thing much past the fire, of course, but his ears had always been pretty good. His best bet was probably to rely more on sound and sight. To that end, he tuned in his ears and listened. As time stretched on, he began to believe what Ylva said. Nothing seemed likely to happen. That is, until a sound caught his attention.

A rustling in the woods, somewhere to his left. Brian looked just in time to not only hear, but also see and feel a crossbow bolt embed in his abdomen. A loud ping came from about the same direction, followed by a muffled curse.

Brian looked down at the projectile sticking out from his stomach. Pain radiated from it to encapsulate his entire being. Red ran down the wooden shaft, dripping the whole way, while more trickled from the wound. He wanted to scream, to cry out in the agony which took him, but there was more rustling. In his pain-addled mind, he knew they were under attack.

"Everyone—" he croaked, a disturbing metallic taste in his mouth. He swallowed it and took a deep breath. "Everyone up! We're under attack!"

His shout raised the sleepers. Calvin and Tiffany both propped themselves up on an elbow, looking around confusedly. Hector sat up, staff in both hands. He looked over at Brian and a panic seeped into his eyes.

"Get up, now! Brian's been shot!" He shouted.

Ylva, who was already in the process of standing, leapt to her feet, drawing her sword and shield in the same motion. Her eyes darted around the treeline in search of anything similar to a threat. However, if her eyesight suffered the same as Brian's, she likely saw nothing at all.

Tiffany and Calvin also stood, but with nowhere near the same urgency. It wasn't until enemies appeared from the trees that they understood the full gravity of the situation.

A man clad in hide armor ran from the forest on the right hand side, waving a battered looking sword over his head. He stood before Brian, likely sensing an easy kill. He swung. Brian wasn't able to put his shield up, but his armor deflected the blow.

A similarly caparisoned woman ran up to Tiffany. She swung over her head. Tiffany closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her head. Her bracers stopped the blow from ringing true. The woman drew back her weapon with a scowl.

A half-orc sprinted from the trees to square up with Hector. He brought down his massive great axe. It's sickining blade dug deep into the wizard's shoulder. Hector let out a cry as the bandit removed his axe in preparation for a second strike.

A man in light armor with a thick metal gorget approached Calvin. He swung his spiked mace wildly at the barbarian. Twice did his weapon fall. The first attack thumped into Calvin's chest, drawing pinpricks of blood where the spikes cut holes through the leather. The pain seemed to flip a switch in Calvin's brain. He brought his kanabo around just barely in time to block the second strike.

"Think you can run up on a homie in his sleep? Fuck that!" Calvin shouted.

Rage overtook him. The surprise was over. It was time to attack. He shoved his attacker back, and retaliated with a strike of his own. He caught the thug in his gorget. Even striking armor, the strike caused the man's knees to buckle and his head to whip to one side.

Hector starred down the half-orc assailing him. His brain still hadn't fully comprehended the situation, but he knew things were bad. He ordered Noche to land on the half-orc's head. In the moment where the enemy was distracted by the animal, Hector curled all the fingers on his right hand individually into a fist, pinky first. Blue lighting arced around his hand. With the fury of a man protecting his friends, he lashed out. His wild haymaker caught the bandit on the cheek.

Electricity coursed through the man's veins. He temporarily was stunned by the attack, but it wore off after a second. He locked Hector with a renewed vigor. The bandit hefted his weapon to swing again. This one caught Hector right in the midsection. All of the air escaped from the old man's lungs. His eyes closed. He fell back, unmoving upon the ground.

The bandit woman attacking Tiffany lashed out again. This time the blonde dodged. In the same motion, both daggers came from their scabbards. Tiffany stabbed with one, and then the other, the Gift of Knowledge a welcome guidance to her hands. Both found homes in the woman's chest. She spluttered, blood in the spittle which caught Tiffany's face. The rogue tried to ignore that and focus on the fight. She was mostly successful.

The man up against Brian took another swing. By this time, the cleric had been able to draw his shield, though he'd only managed to take a knee on his way upright. Every movement shot pain through his joints. Standing was difficult. Despite this, he managed to raise his shield and deflect the blow. He'd have to catch his breath in the few second's reprieve before launching his own counter.

The thug swung at Calvin, but was blocked. His second attack met a similar fate. He drew back a few inches, looking at the foaming barbarian with a bit of caution in his blue eyes. This one was far more skilled than expected.

Another bolt sailed from the trees, this one aimed at Tiffany. It caught the blonde in the shoulder. She cried out and took a step back, a hand over where the projectile now sprouted.

"Alright, I fixed it!" Shouted a heavily accented voice from the trees.

"Are you daft? Shut up!" Another tree voice—this one a woman—reprimanded him.

Ylva took a survey around the battlefield. All of her companions were wounded, one of them was down. Things looked very bad indeed.

"Are you okay?" She asked of Tiffany.

"I can handle this, help Hector!" The blonde screamed.

Ylva sprinted off to do just that. She jumped over the fire pit to stand over the fallen wizard's form. A desperate cry on her lips, she lashed out at the half-orc. Her blade dug deep into his chest. With the adrenaline that pumped through her, she attacked again. This time, the half-orc blocked her overhead swing.

The Norse woman wanted to attack again, but she needed to help Hector. She stowed her weapon in favor of a health potion. Kneeling down, she shoved the bottle in Hector's mouth. The half-orc took advantage of this to levy a strike. Ylva battened down and raised her shield, deflecting the blow.

The red liquid drained from the bottle and down Hector's throat. His wounds partially closed. His eyes flew open. A momentary look around at Ylva standing over him while a behemoth of a man rained blows down told him what had happened. He'd have to thank her later.

Brian had been intending to heal Hector, but since Ylva took care of that, he instead focused on the enemy before him. He reached up with his free hand to grab the bandit's lower chest. Thick black energy seeped from his palm into the man, who's flesh began to wither and die in a pattern radiating out from the touch. The bandit let out a wail that slowly petered out into a dull rasp until it faded entirely. He crumpled to the ground, dead.

Calvin put a big swing toward his enemy. The thug dodged. Unable to arrest the momentum of his own weapon, it caught him in the knee. Calvin winced at he pain, and damned his own stupidity. The thug retaliated with a pair of swings, each one over a different shoulder. Calvin dodged the first, then knocked away the second. The thug sneered in pure frustration.

Hector weasled his way out from underneath Ylva. He stood over the embers of the dying fire, straddling it with his feet. From his pouch he removed a trio of pecan tarts. He crushed them in his fist and then waved a feather at the half-orc. Pink mist flowed from his staff over to the enemy. The half-orc's expression went slack before he fell into a fit of hideous laughter. So great was his jolly, he could no longer remain standing. He toppled onto his back, rolling around in absolute glee at Ylva's feet.

The bandit woman swung diagonally at Tiffany. The blonde crossed her daggers to catch the enemy blade, and then throw off to one side. The woman barely kept it in her grasp. Tiffany thrust forward twice more. One dagger caught the woman's kidney. The other, her throat. She wheezed and choked on the blood which poured from her neck before slumping to the ground. Tiffany wasted zero time drawing her crossbow.

Her celebration was short-lived. A bolt sang from the trees to catch her in the ribs. She took a short breath. Looking down at the wound made her eyes roll back in her head. She fell to the ground in a heap.

Another bolt caught Ylva in the back. She gasped at the sudden pain and spun around to see where it could have come from. In the dark, she caught a glimpse of movement, and a secondary glint from something metallic in the moonlight.

"They're in the trees, two of them!" She called out.

Yet, she did not go after them. The seasoned player in her knew how Hector's spell worked. The half-orc could recover at any moment. He had to be dealt with first, lest he bring her friend down yet again. She drew her blade and stabbed down at the laughing berserker. Her blade caught it in the chest. The orc's own merriment caused him to roll against the sword, cutting a deep channel through his own skin. Despite this, he remained enraptured.

Free from threats, Brian stood up and hobbled over to Tiffany. Strange, with one of his friends in danger, the pain in his chest wasn't quite as bad. He knelt down, shield hand on his holy symbol of the Platinum Dragon, with his other gently on Tiffany's shoulder. Brilliant light flowed from the symbol, through his arm, and into the girl. Her wounds tightened around the bolts in her chest. The one at her shoulder was pushed out completely. She sat up, gazing at her savior. Brian gave her a little smile, which she did not return. Instead, her eyes scanned the treeline in search of whoever shot her.

Calvin had just about had it with these assholes. He let out a warcry and brought his club straight down upon the thug's head. Bone cracked. Blood dripped from the man's nose. But he remained. The bandit swung low, underneath Calvin's attack. Finally, he made contact. Calvin stepped to one side, wincing. The thug swung in the opposite direction. This time the force of it uprooted the much bigger man. He landed on his back, motionless.

"Son of a _bitch_!" Ylva shouted in frustration.

Hector, following Ylva's previous callout, removed a dried up old lightning bug from his pouch. He spoke the arcane words, then pointed the lightning bug to a rock in the direction the crossbow bolts had been coming from. The rock burst into a dazzling white light. While it did not immediately illuminate the forest, in the fading edges of the effect stood an elven woman, and a human male.

Tiffany weighed her options. There was the half-orc still laughing his head off on the ground. The way he rolled around, she wasn't confident in her ability to hit him. There was the thug who took down Calvin, but he was already hurt. The two crossbowmen, however, had escaped relatively unscathed to this point. And, at least one of them had shot her. That in mind, her choice of target was obvious. She shouldered her own weapon and fired. She hit the elf woman in the left thigh. The elf grunted, then sneered at Tiffany.

The firefight was on. The elf fired at Tiffany to score a hit through her right arm. The human crossbow wielder, uncomfortable with the light washing over him, aimed at the wizard. It scored a good hit right in the center of the old man's chest. Hector fell to one knee, his staff the only thing keeping him upright. His vision faded, but he pushed it down. He couldn't go out now. Not again. Not when his friends needed him.

Ylva sliced again at the half-orc. This time he managed to roll randomly out of the way. Her blade cut a pretty river in the dirt.

Brian gave Tiffany a pat on the shoulder. She nodded at him. He made his way over to where the thug menaced over Calvin, careful to stay out of engagement range. A repetition of his last move saw a hand each on his holy symbol and his friend.

The moment Calvin awoke, he rose to his feet, swinging at the same time. Brian had to fall back on his rump to avoid getting hit. The thug's left arm snapped. He screamed in pure agony, clutching his now limp appendage. He attacked Calvin, but pain slowed his movements. The teenager easily blocked. Again the thug swiped, but he simply couldn't think straight. This one missed its target completely.

Hector directed Noche to flap around the elf woman's head. She flailed a the bat in a useless attempt to shoo it away. From where he crouched, Hector choked up on his staff. He dropped some water atop it. A lazy arc of it trailed blue in the air. With what little might he had left, the wizard thrust forward. The force of this dragged him down onto all fours.

Still, a frigid spike sailed toward the woman. It impacted square in her chest. It stuck there for a moment, long enough for her to stare at it, before shattering into a hundred pieces. Both she and her human companion were showered with shards. They pierced her many times in the face and neck. She gasped and fell, the perforations in her throat too great for drawing breath. The man fared slightly better. He, too, took many little wounds, but remained standing.

The half-orc rolled onto his stomach, a move which forced gravel into his various wounds. The pain shocked him out of whatever magical effect took his mind. The laughter ceased, replaced with pure rage. He would barrel through this shieldmaiden and kill that wizard, just as soon as he got to his feet.

Tiffany reloaded her weapon and fired at the remaining man in the trees. Instead of her bolt firing like it should have, the string instead snapped with a tink sound identical to the one from the very beginning of this fight. She starred down at the failed weapon, flabbergasted for a second at what just happened. She then threw it to the ground with an annoyed growl. Returning to her daggers, she ran up to the man.

The man, alarmed by the little blonde girl suddenly right up in his face, dropped his own crossbow and pulled a sword. He slashed at Tiffany, but clearly didn't know how to use the thing. She blocked it with almost zero effort.

The sight of the half-orc's recovery was a disturbing one indeed. Ylva quickly took a swipe at him while he remained on the ground. Her blade cut deep into his skull. His body jolted for a second before falling limp. Ylva gave a satisfied grunt. Good riddance. She moved over to the thug attacking Calvin.

Brian moved around to the other side of the thug so he was in a straight line between himself and Ylva. He drew his hammer and struck. The holy symbol on his chest flared. He felt warmth and light enter his body. Confidence surged as his blow fell. The head of his hammer bashed a hole clean through the thug's head and into his brain. There came a sickening squish, the meaning of which Brian could only guess. The thug slurped off the weapon and crumpled, the light gone from his eyes.

With his immediate threat dealt with, Calvin took off sprinting toward the last remaining enemy. He could get next to Tiffany, but didn't' have the time to aid her offensively.

Hector could feel the strength leaving his bones in tandem with the growing pool of blood beneath him. But he was not out of this yet. So long as he drew breath, this old man could fight. He looked up at the last remaining bandit, magic words on his lips. He thrust out his staff. It tumbled from his weakened grasp, but not before an icy jet shot from it. Frost encompassed the bandit. His body went rigid. Ice crystals sprouted from his skin. He fell backward, body frozen solid as he hit the ground.

Quick as it began, the forest went quiet. Brian looked around at the blood and bodies around him. Part of him still didn't know what happened. The logical part of his brain knew, of course, but the majority filled with adrenaline grasped at straws to comprehend the scenario. All he knew was the enemy were dead, and his friends were not. That's all that mattered, in the end.

"What the fuck!?" Calvin shouted.

"Oh my God, _Hector_!" Ylva cried and ran over to him. She stowed her weapons and knelt down next to the old man, both hands to steady him.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Calvin asked again.

"They ambushed us," Brian said between unsteady breaths. "Sorry, I didn't see them."

"It's okay, Brian," Hector gasped.

"Hector, shut up. Save your strength, fuck," implored Ylva.

"We can't stay here," Tiffany warned. "We have to go somewhere else."

"Hector isn't going anywhere," insisted Ylva.

"I'm fine, I can walk." Hector tried to stand, but only made it a few inches before falling back to hands and knees.

"No, you can't. Just stay still," ordered Ylva.

"We might not have to move," Brian said. "Ylva, you're not badly hurt, right?"

"No."

"Then use some of your rope to hang a few of the dead bodies from the trees. That should deter any would-be attackers," Brian said.

"Dude, that's fucked up," Calvin said.

"Do you have any better ideas? Hector can't walk, and I'm not feeling too great, either." Brian pointed to the bolt in this abdomen for emphasis.

"What if the smell attracts some animals," Tiffany argued.

"We'll have to hope it doesn't," reasoned Brian.

"I don't like it," denied the blonde.

"Neither do I, but it's our best plan." Ylva gave Hector one last sympathetic look before she stood and began dragging the half-orc into the trees behind him.

"I can help with that, I guess. I can still lift shit." He gathered up the elf woman and began the process of tying her by the neck around a tree branch.

While those two got about their duty, Brian used the last of his healing supplies to remove the bolts from the party members who had been shot and bandaged up the wounds. He hoped there was a place in town to stock up.

When that was done, Ylva—to great protest—offered to take the rest of the night's watches. As the least injured party member, it fell on her shoulders to keep everyone else safe. Once she got the others to agree, she sat down right in the middle of where they all laid down and kept her head on a swivel. Nothing would get the better of them again, not this night.

When morning came, she kept her promise. The sun rose without any further incident. Brian checked himself just to make sure he was okay. As with every other injury he'd sustained while in Exandria, a night's rest healed him completely. Be it wild magic, divine intervention, or whatever, he had never been more thankful for it.

After a quick breakfast of bread, meat, and apples, the party continued their trek. To say Brian's confidence took a hit would be an understatement. After their last two victories, he thought he might actually be getting the hang of this whole _adventurer_ thing. Last night proved him oh so very wrong. Even with the Gift of Knowledge, even with the great power they'd been granted, the five of them were still green. They were novices, through and through. He and his friends still had a lot to learn.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: I should clarify a rule I'm using, because this is the second time it has come up. It's one from Taking 20. A player can use a health potion as a bonus action, but doing so while within melee range of a hostile creature provokes an attack of opportunity. That's why the half-orc took a swing at Ylva while she healed Hector.**

 **I did a bunch of rolls to see how exactly the night would play out. Each watch got a d20 to see if anything happened, a d6 to see what exactly, and then a perception check to see if it was an ambush. A 1-3 was necessary to trigger an encounter, and there wouldn't have have been more than one if combat happened. Brian rolled a 2, got bandits as an opponent, and failed his check.**

 **This encounter was much harder than anticipated, and it's all because I gave the bandits a surprise round where they did a ton of damage. Without that, it probably would have gone much better.**

 **I'm a big fan of giving humanoid enemies class traits, so the crossbow bandits had Sneak Attack, and the thug fighting Calvin had Second Wind. Sneak Attack was a problem, but when the Thug used Second Wind he only healed three hit points, so I didn't waste words mentioning it. The Thug rolled horribly the entire fight. The Half-Orc Berserker had Reckless Attack, but he hardly had a chance to use it.**

 **Once again, Brian got a clutch kill with Inflict Wounds. I wanted him to finally use a successful Guiding Bolt, but he got stuck healing his teammates. Maybe one day. He also got his first hammer kill this fight.**

 **Hector was also pretty clutch, with Tasha's Hideous Laughter holding the half-orc at bay, and also getting both of the kills on the crossbow bandits. This was the first time he did any damage with Ice Knife.**

 **Tiffany was pretty solid this time around. Both she and the male crossbow bandit rolled natural 1's and snapped the strings on their weapons. Ylva was also solid, though she lucked out a bit by fighting the one enemy who couldn't fight back for most of the encounter.**


	14. Canvassing

Brian stirred through his coin pouch with one finger. It had grown sixty gold heavier since the last time he obsessed over it. Before leaving the previous night's battle site, Calvin had the great idea of looting the bodies. Their weapons and armor weren't really worth taking, but they carried a combined total of three-hundred gold, and the half-orc had a small ruby. The gold was distributed evenly amongst the party members, while Hector held onto the gem.

For his part, Brian was conflicted. On the one hand, he liked having more money. On the other, he wasn't sure if he should. Did he really _deserve_ this gold after his terrible performance last night? Most people would agree that sham of a fight didn't merit any sort of reward, so did he really have the right to take one? In their victory, perhaps, the party proved their worth. However, was that really enough?

Was he good enough for the few extra coins he now carried? If someone had asked him that question two days ago, he would have said yes. Now? Not so much. Whatever sense of morality this new world thrust upon him said that gold belonged more rightly to someone else. Brian would have to do better in the future if he truly wanted to earn it.

The party came upon a copse of trees just after midday. Now, though the areas in and around central Wildemount were mostly flat plains and rolling hills, it was dotted by little wooded areas here and there. However, this was only the second one which the road passed through, the first being where the party met up with those bandits the night prior.

To say this put all of them on edge was an understatement. Ylva went so far as to draw her shield. Calvin gave his weapon an uneasy heft onto his shoulders. The other three did nothing, but Tiffany was quite obviously uneasy as they entered the canopy.

Brian kept his head on a swivel while they passed through it. Wind rippled the leaves and howled past the trunks, but otherwise the only sounds were their own footfalls. It seemed nothing lived in these woods. And, if they did, none of them cared to bother the humans. Not that this meant much, however. The attack last night proved if someone—or something—really didn't want to be seen, then there wasn't much any of them could do about it, especially Brian.

So, he kept an eye out. Whatever mistakes lead to the previous events, he would not repeat them, even if he didn't really know what those mistakes were. He remained on edge the whole time. Every sound was someone sneaking up on them. Every movement, a potential attacker. He didn't relax even an inch until all five of them came out the other side.

Immediately after the copse lay a large expanse of farmland. At the end of it, Brian could make out the boundaries of a town. This must've been their destination. Walking toward it brought them past many grizzled workers tilling the fields, people of all shapes, sizes, and races working together to grow whatever crops they set their backs to digging. Some watched or greeted them as they passed, but most were too engrossed in their tasks. Or, they just didn't care. Either one was fine by Brian, really.

Approaching the town—the name of which Brian could neither remember nor pronounce—the party got a good look at it from the outside. It was small, only large enough to host a few hundred people, _definitely_ less than a thousand. The roads were laid out in an even grid to form what appeared to be a perfect square. There were no walls, nor defenses of any kind. Brian began to wonder how a place like this existed without being ransacked, but then remembered his objective. It _had_ been, to the tune of a missing chalice.

They made it about six steps into town before a guard intercepted them. He was a tall man, clad in normally colored chain maille shirt with a ratty brown tunic over it, matching quilted trousers, and battered schynbalds. He had a bow over one shoulder, a quiver over the other, and an axe at his hip.

"Hold there, travelers," he said, raising a bare hand. "State your business."

"Who wants to know?" Calvin fired in before anyone else could speak.

"The guard captain who just saw five heavily armed folks waltz into his town," the guard said. Brian could've commented that, if the captain had been doing his job, then this meeting would have happened _outside_ the village, but he hadn't the energy.

"Easy, Calvin," Hector stepped forward. "My name is Hector Alvarez. My companions and I are from the Adventurer's Guild. We were hired by a citizen named Alice Dullon to recover an heirloom chalice recently stolen from her."

"Oh, so _you're_ the ones they sent?" The guard said. He looked them over one at a time. "I guess that makes sense."

"You've heard about the contract?" Hector asked.

"This is a small town. Nothing stays secret for long."

"Captain," Ylva began. "Do you know anything about the chalice, or who might have taken it?"

"Oh, we're pretty sure it was the goblins," the guard captain said as if it were no big deal.

"Goblins?" Echoed Ylva.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Nasty fuckers have been giving us trouble for about a month now, stealing our crops and trade goods, attacking travelers on the road. Bunch of piss pots."

"You haven't gone to the Crownsguard?" Brian asked.

"Those lazy gits?" The guard looked to his left and spit. "The don't care none for bumpkins like us. We've sent six requests for help, haven't heard nothing back yet. That's why a bunch of us pooled our gold together and hired you lot."

"It's awful the Empire would ignore its own people like that," Tiffany said. It took Brian a moment to realize who'd spoken, as she normally stayed quiet in moments like this.

"Empire jurisdiction and Empire protection are two very different things. We don't make them enough money to be worth spending money on, so we fend for ourselves."

"I'm sorry things are like that, but I promise we'll do everything we can to help," Ylva said. "Do you know where we could begin to look for these goblins?"

"No." The guard shook his head. "Never seen them myself. There's a trader waylaid in town though, who's wagon was attacked about a day and a half ago. He might know something."

"Perfect," Hector said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Unless he left for some reason, he'll be at The Bunkhouse. That's our inn. You might find Alice there, too."

"Oh, good. We weren't sure if this place would have an inn or not," Brian said with a concerned look for Ylva, who hadn't slept much the night before.

"It's useful for accommodating peddlers and the like. Just go one street over and follow it all the way to the end. The Bunkhouse is the second tallest building in town."

"Okay, we'll do that." Hector began to lead the party on. "Thank you for your help."

"Yeah, yeah," the guard said as the party separated from him.

The streets were mostly deserted, Brian noticed as they walked. He assumed that, during this time of day, most folks were either working the multitude of farms surrounding the village, or running the few shops he saw. Unlike Trostenwald, this place probably didn't have enough different activities or professions to facilitate a twenty-four hour work cycle. A majority of the people who worked here were likely farmers, and as such would spend their days tilling instead of wandering the streets.

In a way, he was thankful for this. The five of them clearly didn't belong in a place like this, so laid back and utterly ordinary. They stood out like a quintet of extremely sore thumbs. The fewer people there were, then the less reason to worry about it.

"Holy shit," Calvin said at one point. "I just realized _Alice_ and _chalice_ rhyme."

"You just got that?" Tiffany asked, incredulous.

"It's the Alice Chalice!" Enthused Ylva.

"We've been saying the word _chalice_ so much these past few minutes it's starting to sound weird," Brian observed.

"Well, once we're done with this quest, you'll never have to say it again," Hector said.

"I don't think I will," Brian agreed.

For such a small town, the buildings were pretty dense. The unpaved roads stretched on in narrow perfect rectangles, each block the exact same size. Someone obviously did quite a fair bit of planning before construction here began. The diminutive size probably helped. Though it made navigation easy, the tight formation limited visibility. As such, the party did not have a visual on their destination until they'd crossed the entire town to crest the final width-wise street.

The Bunkhouse was a two-story building made of dark wood with a grey mansard roof. Each level had four windows facing the street, with the double doors between on the bottom floor. If not for the little trapezoidal sign hanging out front, it would've looked like just a big house.

The interior reminded Brian a lot of the last tavern he was in: One big room filled by tables with a stage in the northwest corner and a bar at the far end. The difference was that this place was almost entirely empty. Someone clearly copied someone, here.

One dwarf sat in a corner table to the left. Two girls busied about the tables, one of them a human and the other a halfling. A third stood behind the bar. Either she was standing up on something, or was extremely tall for a human woman. She rose to almost the same height as Calvin. Her wiry blonde hair fell just long enough to brush her shoulders with how it parted in the center to frame her pale strong features. Pretty in her middle-age, she had a pointed chin and sharp blue eyes.

"Welcome to The Bunkhouse," she called out to the party when they were about halfway to her. "As you can see, we're terribly busy, so there may be a delay."

Hector chuckled. "We're sorry to impose."

"Eh, don't be if you're going to anyway," the woman said. She waited until they reached the bar before speaking again. "What can I get for you?"

"We might be interested in a room, if you have any, but right now we're looking for information," Hector said.

"Long as that doesn't involve you smashing up the place, then go ahead," The woman said.

"No, no, nothing like that," Hector waved it away. "We're from the Adventurer's Guild, here about a stolen chalice."

"Ah, I thought you looked a bit eccentric for this little town," the woman nodded. Brian grimaced at the choice of words. "Did you talk to Kyp at the gate?"

"Not sure," Ylva said. "We talked to _a_ guard, yes: Tall, greasy hair, brown eyes..."

"Kind of an asshole," provided Calvin.

"Yep," the woman chuckled. "You definitely met my husband. Did he tell you about the goblins?"

"He did," confirmed Hector. "He also pointed us here. Do you know where to find the person who filed the contract? She goes by the name Alice Dullon."

"I don't _go by_ that, my name _is_ Alice Dullon, owner of the Bunkhouse, the best inn in all of Ebenestadt."

"Isn't it the only inn?" Tiffany asked.

"And that's what makes it the best," Alice joked.

"You're Alice Dullon?" Hector brought things back on track. "Well, that makes things easier. What can you tell us about the chalice?"

"Honestly, fuck the chalice. It's just a cup that belonged to my grandma," Alice said. "What I really want is the goblins dead."

"Then why mention it in the first place?" Ylva asked.

"I thought something to retrieve would make the job more appealing, and get someone out here sooner," Alice explained.

"Out of curiosity," Brian spoke up, "how long as it been"

"Six days," Alice said. "Technically, though, you responded in four since it would've taken a day for the request to reach you, and then a day for you to travel here."

Brian filed that away in a brain box labeled _important_. The Guild had a response time of less than a week. He wasn't sure what that information meant, but it would surely become useful at some point.

"Can you tell us anything about the goblins?" Ylva asked.

"Not really." Alice shook her head. "I spend most of my days cooped up in here. Did Kyp tell you about the waylaid merchant?"

"Yeah," said Calvin.

"Then you'll want to talk to that drowned old codger over there." Alice pointed to the dwarf in the corner. "Darmus Emnik. He's been like that ever since, no where to go, barely any money to spend. The goblins took everything from his cart. I feel bad for him, really."

"That's awful," Ylva said.

"We'll go talk to him, see if we can make this right," Hector said before leading the party in that direction.

Though he probably was old by human standards, Darmus appeared to have barely missed middle-age for a dwarf. He had ot a grey hair on his head, nor snaggle in his red beard, nor wrinkle upon his face. When he looked up at the approaching party, his cheeks were flushed all the way up to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked strung out and tired, appropriate for someone who just been so heinously robbed. Brian considered leaving him alone. It was rude to bother him about the incident when he was clearly so broken up about it. But, he was their only lead. They had no choice.

"Mr. Emnik?" Hector asked when they were within easy conversation range.

"Mr. Emnik is my granddad," the dwarf slurred. Even from a few feet away his breath stank of bourbon.

"Darmus, then," Hector corrected himself. "We're from the Adventurer's Guild. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your cart."

"Bah! I don't wanna talk about my cart." Darmus grabbed his half-full tankard and gestured toward Hector with it. "I've done enough talking about my cart." He took a drink.

"I understand you're frustrated, but—"

"Frustrated? _Frustrated?_ " Darmus scoffed. "Those hunched over, green-skinned, _rats_ took everything from me! I'm well beyond frustrated."

"Sir Dwarf." Ylva put a hand on the table. "If they really took _everything,_ then they probably still have some or even most of it. Help us find them, and we might be able to get it back."

"You'd do that for me?" Darmus wondered aloud.

"We're going after them, anyway," Ylva said.

Darmus paused for a second, seeming to mull over what she said. He didn't need much convincing, though. He wanted his stuff back, and didn't care how that happened. Brian would think the same way, if in his situation.

"Alright," he nodded. "I tell you what happened, and you get me back my stuff. And don't take nothing, neither."

"Not a single piece of dust," Ylva promised with a smile.

Darmus paused again, this time to collect his thoughts. "I was on my way from Nicodranas, about a day from the Wuyun Gates. I'd just come up on the Cyrengreen forest when it happened. There were traps in the road, pitfalls and covered bear traps. All but one of my guards fell to them, the last was cut down by arrow fire. Seven or eight goblins ran from the trees. They destroyed my cart, shoved all of my goods in to boxes and bags, and took off back into the forest. I only got away because I hid under the thing. Great, valiant dwarf I am, hiding from goblins. My father is probably rolling in his grave right about now."

"You were outnumbered and probably terrified. There's no shame in living to fight another day," Ylva said in the same teacherly tone she used when training people.

"Thanks, lass."

"Do you have any idea where they went?" Hector asked.

"Well, if I know goblins well as any dwarf knows goblins, they're probably somewhere underground. Crumbletop cave would be the closest place in that part of the forest. Hunters and merchants like to use it as a safe place to camp in the night."

"And how to we find Crumbletop?" Hector continued.

"Go several hours south of here. Watch the treeline and you'll see a spot that dips inward and then bulges out abruptly. Enter at the point closest to the road and head straight northwest. You'll see a tiny hill. Cumbletop is set within its base."

"That should be all we need. Thank you so much for your help, Darmus," Ylva said.

"Yeah, sure." Darmus shooed them away with his cup. "Don't get all mushy on me. Just get me my stuff back."

"We'll do our best." Hector gave a little bow, supported on his staff. "Until we meet again."

Darmus said nothing as the wizard led his team away. With a destination and an extra objective, they departed further down the Amber Road. Brian wondered how they were supposed to carry a whole cart's worth of stuff back with them, but those were considerations for the future. Right now, he had an impending fight to worry about.

He worried for Ylva. She must've been exhausted, though she never spoke a word of it. Brian didn't know her very well, but he did well enough to know she never would. Any suggestion they rest would be rebuked with no chance for argument. He hoped she would be okay for the violence sure to come.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had wanted to put the search for Crumbletop at the end of this chapter, but it felt too tacked on, so it will instead start the next one.**

 **The only roll here was a persuasion check from Ylva to see how much help Darmus would give them. She had a point of exhaustion from not sleeping the night before, and so rolled with disadvantage. For those who don't know, _disadvantage_ is where you roll two dice and take the lowest number. Despite this, she still managed to roll an 18 and a 19. Her +2 in persuasion made for a total of 20. Had she failed the check, then Darmus would not have given up the name Crumbletop, and the party would've had to track the goblins through the forest. **

**Don't forget to leave a review. My greatest source of motivation is hearing from my readers, both the good comments and the bad.**


	15. Spelunking

"Are we really leaving now?" Brian said as they were about to exit the city limits.

"You think we shouldn't?" Ylva inquired from ahead of him.

"No, we shouldn't." Brian shook his head. "It'll be dark before long. I don't think any of us want to travel at night."

"We might make it before then," Hector said. "Darmus said it wasn't too far away."

"Several hours," Brian corrected. "He said several hours. It'll be dark way before we get there."

"That could mean anything. I say we keep going," Calvin said.

"And what about you, Ylva? You barely slept at all last night." Brian turned to the other most sensible member of the party for aid.

"I can stand, and I can stab. That's all I need," reasoned the Norsewoman. Brian grumbled deep in his throat.

"We're on a timetable here, Brian. Who knows how long the goblins will stay at the cave? If we miss them, we might never find them," said Hector.

"Something tells me they aren't very good at sneaking around. I mean, their goblins! Tiffany, you're outdoorsy, right? You could track them if they move?" Brian said.

"Not really," denied Tiffany. "I used to go hunting with my dad, but it's been a long time. Also, I don't know what goblin tracks even look like."

"They're like human feet but smaller, with little claws," said Brian.

"That doesn't help," Tiffany began. "Tracking a deer is one thing, because I know deer. I don't know anything about goblins, or how they act. I only know they're green because Darmus called them green-skinned."

"For the record," Hector said, " _green-skin_ is a slur. We should probably watch who we say it around."

"I thought that was a Warhammer thing," said Calvin.

"It is, but it probably applies here, too, since the orcs and goblins are green," said Hector. Calvin just shrugged.

"Guys, focus," Brian said. "I _really_ think we should sleep for the night."

"What, are you scared?" Calvin joked.

"No," Brian was pleading at this point. "I just think this is a bad idea."

"We have a prefect chance, Brian, we have to take it," argued Ylva. "We can't let the goblins get away."

"But they're not going anywhere," reasoned Brian. "Think about it. What are goblins gonna do with an old cup and a bunch of trade goods? They probably can't use most of it, and no one in the Empire will trade with them. We know goblins like to steal things just for the sake of having more things. They won't abandon their loot."

"Darmus said they were able to take away everything in his cart. They're more than capable of moving," Hector said.

"But that's only the cart. I'll bet my entire coin purse they have more loot than that," Brian said.

"I'll take that action," Calvin interjected swiftly.

"You're not _helping_ , Calvin," admonished Brian.

"Man, stop being such a bitch. They're just goblins. We'll be fine," Calvin said.

"Not if we're exhausted and blind," countered Brian.

"Enough," Hector said, not a yell—or even a forcefull huff—but the others still quieted at his call. "Let's put it to a vote. Everyone in favor of waiting a night, raise your hand."

Brian put his hand up immediately. He looked around to find he was the only one doing so. The others walked on as they had been.

"All in favor of going after the goblins right now?" Hector asked while raising his hand. Ylva, Calvin, and even Tiffany followed suit. "That settles it, we press on."

"Sorry, Brian." Ylva gave him a soft look.

Brian deflated. His shoulders sank and he bent over just slightly. Idiots, the lot of them. He dropped to the back of the line, lamenting his sour fate. He couldn't find any version of reality where this went well. He looked up to the sky to see the sun just waning past midday.

The gods of this world were real, right? Brian raised a quick prayer up to his deity, that Bahamut could either ease their path or keep the sun in the sky a little longer. Maybe he could pass word on to Pelor? It was the best hope he had right then.

The party's instructions were to follow the treeline. The only problem with this was that the Cyrengreen Forest could not be seen from the road. So, this meant traveling off the beaten path, a solution Brian protested greatly. The roads were patrolled, they were well kept. Moving away from them introduced the party to danger and slowed them down. If everyone wanted to complete the quest before nightfall, then to intentionally travel at a slower pace flew completely in the face of that. It made no sense.

But, Brian was outvoted. Ylva seemed gung-ho about finding these goblins, even more so than usual when it came to fighting. Calvin also wanted to hit stuff with his kanabo. Brian worried his barbarian class may be rubbing off on him a bit too much. Even Hector and Tiffany, the most cautious—or, at the very least, indifferent—party members wanted to go after the goblins right away. At a vote of 4 to 1, Brian was powerless to stop them.

So, he resorted to staring at the forest. They kept a good hundred feet or so from the dense dark conifers, a distance that seemed safe enough from the outset. Brian wasn't so sure. Where they had camped the night before _seemed_ safe, but they all knew how well that worked out. It was foolish to assume they were any better off this far away than they were closer to it.

Just as Darmus said, the forest eventually dipped even further from the road before bulging out in a little peninsula of trees. The closest point happened to be a singular tree a few feet apart from the rest at the very apex of this outcropping. With a moment to orient themselves to the sun dipped dangerously low in the sky, the party plunged into the depths.

Brian completely lost all sense of direction the moment they entered the forest. The only reason he had any idea at all of where to go was because he could still see the sun poking through the branches. Yellow streams lit the way, shining at their shallow slant. If he kept those lights on his right, that meant he was traveling west. What angle indicated _north_ west, however, was a different story. Hector and Ylva seemed to know where they were going better than anyone else: Not just right then, but in general. Brian decided his best course of action was to just follow them.

The sun had almost completely set by the time a hill rolled into view, bathed in the light blue flecked with red which signaled the coming of dusk. Traveling left around the hill revealed an opening in the earth. It looked far too symmetrical to be a natural occurrence, as if people had either made or refined it. It even had the remnants of a few stacked stones to act as a trail marker, though those were mostly scattered.

"You think this is the place?" Calvin asked as they stopped before it.

"It has to be," reasoned Ylva. "It's the only hill with a cave in it that we've seen so far."

"I know one way to check," Hector said. "We can send Noche in."

At the sound of its name, the fey fruit bat appeared on Hector's shoulder. It had been a while since Brian saw the creature, and he'd forgotten how big it was. It stood just under a foot tall and took up most of the shoulder it occupied. Brian had never seen a bat before, but he always thought of them as much smaller creatures, more like rats or mice.

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Ylva said.

"I'll just do the thing Caleb does, and tell you what I see," explained Hector.

"Can you do that?" Calvin asked.

"I think so. Let me check my book..." Hector dug the aforementioned spellbook from the pocket in his robes and began thumbing through it. While he did, Brian took a moment to explain the situation to a clearly confused Tiffany.

"One of the abilities of the Find Familiar spell is that the master—in this case, Hector—can link telepathically with their familiar and see what they see," he said, keeping his voice a bit low so Hector could focus.

"That's what he's doing now?" Tiffany asked.

"It's what he's trying to do," clarified Brian.

"And Noche is a familiar?"

"Yes," Brian said. "A familiar is a magically conjured fey—a fairy-type creature—that takes the form of an animal," he added after realized Tiffany might have never heard of one.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked these questions yet," Ylva observed.

"I thought Hector just had a pet bat," Tiffany said with a shrug. "How was I supposed to know it was magical?"

"And the vanishing into thin air didn't tip you off?" Calvin said.

"You people do weird shit all the time," Tiffany said. Brian couldn't argue with her.

"Okay, I got it!" Hector exclaimed suddenly. "You ready, Noche?" The bat, of course, didn't say anything.

"I have you." Ylva put a hand on Hector's shoulder.

The two of them shared a nod. Hector took a big breath, and his eyes went white. Noche's flared a similar color before returning to normal. The bat flapped from Hector's shoulders and plunged into the cave, squeaking all the way.

The atmosphere visibly shifted as the adorable little bat noises moved further into the darkness until they disappeared entirely, replaced with an eerie silence. Brian waited with breath caught in his throat, prepared for something to go horribly wrong, as they often did for poor Frumpkin. Then again, bats were much more common sights within caves than cute orange kitty cats, so maybe Noche wasn't in that much danger after all.

"There are six of them," Hector said. His speech came in a lethargic drawl, as if extremely distracted by something else. "Four of them are small, like regular goblins. One of them is really big and wearing armor. There's one with a weird staff. Oh!"

"What?" Ylva said.

"One of them just threw a rock at Noche. I'm getting him out," determined Hector. A moment later, the unharmed bat appeared from out of the cave to rest on Hector's shoulders. The wizard's eyes went back to normal. He blinked a few times to recover his bearings.

"How was it?" Ylva asked with a chuckle.

"Echolocation is weird," Hector said. "It was like I could see, but I couldn't see."

"That's a good point, though," commented Brian. "If it's dark in there, we won't be able to fight."

"You can just cast light on the ceiling when we go in," Ylva said to Hector.

"That means stealth is out the window, then," Hector said.

"There's only one entrance, and two of us are in armor. I don't think we would've got very far sneaking," Calvin said.

"We blitz them, then," Ylva said. "Calvin and I can be in the front. Brian, you take the middle. Tiffany and Hector can bring up the rear. Hector casts light on the ceiling, then then the three of us rush in, and Tiffany provides cover fire."

Brian considered this for a moment. "It's a bit direct, but I think it might be our best option. I agree with Calvin that we're probably not stealthing in there."

"We did the same thing at the halfling's house. What was her name?" Calvin said.

"Isalda," supplied Tiffany.

"You alright with this plan, Tiff?" Ylva asked.

"I've said multiple times, now, that you guys are the planners. I'll follow whatever idea you have, but I don't know what I'm doing beyond that."

"That settles it, then," said Calvin. "We run in, crack some heads, go the fuck home."

"Any objections?" Hector asked. No one spoke up, though Brian had _several._ "Ok, then. Lead the way, Ylva."

Ylva must've been going out of her way to hide the exhaustion in her bones. Her steps were solid and strong, nary a falter as she fell in behind Calvin at the head of the formation. She drew her sword and shield, and went inside.

What little light penetrated the entrance became swallowed up by the darkness after just a few steps. The near sudden blindness caught Brian off guard. Unconsciously, he reached out to grab Ylva's shoulder. She gave no reaction to his touch. A second later, a small hand grabbed at the tunic sticking out from below his chest armor. At least Tiffany was as freaked out as he was. This not being able to see in the dark thing was getting old.

The narrow passage sloped steadily downward for several feet before it curved sharply to the left. Darmus had said traders used this cave as a camp, but he doubted that. How would anyone get a cart down this slope? He had a hard enough time with two feet, let alone four wheels.

A few steps after the left turn, the cave opened up. Brian couldn't see, but he could feel the claustrophobia lift from him. He was about to wonder if this was where the goblins were when he heard Hector move behind him.

"Now!" Light flew from the wizard's staff and illuminated a spot on the ceiling. Ylva and Calvin surged forward. It was on.

White light filled the room. It was a large, vaguely circular chamber, mostly flat with a few stalagmites sticking up here and there. A large earthen column rose all the way up to the right. One goblin tucked into an alcove next to it. Another took cover by the far wall. Three, including the big one, huddled around some bones in the middle. The one with the staff stood well behind them. Brian made this one immediately as a nilbog.

As the humans had made no attempt to hide their approach, the goblins were ready for them. The one to the right drew back a crude shortbow and fired at Calvin. The arrow found his shoulder. The goblin furthest away seemed to aim a bow at at Ylva, but the shoddy weapon snapped under the strain of drawing it back. The arrow clattered to the floor. It quite obviously cursed in goblin before drawing a slightly bent sword.

The nilbog drew a crossbow with one hand and fired at Calvin. The shot went wide.

Thinking quickly, Tiffany ducked into a divot just shy of the chamber entrance. She leaned out to find a shot beneath Brian's right elbow. She fired at the goblin with the broken bow. Her bolt found the creature in the side, but passed through mostly skin. The goblin didn't seem too bothered by it.

Ylva charged right up to the biggest baddie in the room. While the others carried crude weapons, this one had a fine longsword in both its hands. That, coupled with the maille and nasal helmet it wore, and its sheer size, singled it out as a hobgoblin. Ylva struck down at it with a vicious overhand chop. The hob parried with ease, a sinister smile on its face. It pulled back and swung low, but met shield instead of flesh.

Brian stepped out into the chamber, hugging the right hand wall, so as to prevent blocking the entrance. With a hand on his holy symbol to the Platinum Dragon, he let golden light travel through his body to collect in his other, outstretched hand. He aimed it for the archer goblin taking cover by the rock column. The guiding bolt of energy shot from his hand, but could not overcome the earthen barrier.

One of the goblins used the distraction of its bigger companion to move around behind Ylva. It swung a rudimentary hatchet toward her back. A quick flick of her eyes allowed the shieldmaiden to lean out of the way. However, this motion made it difficult to avoid the other goblin who came up to her left. It bashed a club into her shoulder. She winced at the impact, but wore the pain like a champ.

Hector ran out from the mouth of the cave, stopping at a point close enough to engage, but still well away from the fighting. He crushed a trio of pecan tarts in his hand, then waved a feather at the hobgoblin. A familiar pink mist traveled from his staff to ring the target's head. Unlike before, where enemies had to shake off the effect, the hobgoblin didn't acknowledge it in the slightest. Either it had the fortitude of a brick wall, or the intelligence of one. Either way, the spell took no effect.

Calvin let out a blood-boiling scream as he charged up to the goblin who dared attack Ylva from behind. He swung across his body with reckless abandon. The hefty kanabo smacked the goblin so hard across the face its head almost turned around backward. With a snapped neck, it fell to the ground.

The archer goblin Brian had shot at returned fire. Where the human had missed, this monster found much better luck. It managed to shoot the tiny spot where Brian's pauldron did not overlap with his chest armor. The arrow slid between four scales and dug deep into the flesh of his shoulder, missing the bone by a hair's breadth.

The other archer, bow now broken, ran up to Ylva's right. It tried to stab at her, but she blocked with an almost lazy motion of her sword.

The nilbog moved up a few feet. Not one to be outdone, it produced three little tarts from within its robes and waved a gnarled old feather at Ylva. The pink mist Hector so often employed now emanated from the nilbog's staff. It circled around the Norsewoman's head. She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. A dumb smile crept across her face for but an instant before it vanished, replaced by a stare of total death toward the nilbog. It recoiled slightly under those fierce green eyes. That _certainly_ didn't work as intended.

Tiffany reloaded her crossbow and fired at the goblin on Ylva's left, the one that just hit her with a club. Her bolt pierced through its temple. The light left from its eyes immediately. It died before collapsing to the ground.

Ylva didn't like being surrounded. In this, the hobgoblin was her biggest threat. She pushed her shield into its chest to open it up, and then stabbed upward, underneath its helmet, straight through its lower jaw and out through its head. The only thing that stopped her blade was the metal barrier atop the hob's head. It took a ragged breath before Ylva retracted her weapon. The hobgoblin died in a heap before her.

Brian was concerned about the continued arrow fire from the remaining archer goblin. He moved up on it to remove this threat. With his shield hand on his holy symbol, black tendrils engulfed his other outstretched palm. He went to place it upon the enemy, but it was too fast, snaking out of the way with a shuffle most human bodies wouldn't be capable of. Knowing he was now caught in a protracted melee, Brian drew his hammer.

Hector knew enough to avoid exchanging mind-altering spells with another caster. So, he instead went for damage. He placed a drop of water atop his staff, then drew a diagonal slash in the air with it. Blue like a comet tailed the weapon. He then thrust it forward, and a thin shard of ice hurtled toward the nilbog. The robed goblin side-stepped the projectile, and then rolled forward to avoid the following detonation. For a moment, Hector thought that was kind of impressive, but he expelled the notion from his conscious.

Where Hector missed, Calvin saw an opportunity. He rushed up to the nilbog and attempted to bring his club down. But wait, this goblin was actually a pretty good fighter. Indeed, it was the coolest goblin he'd ever seen! It deserved to be praised, not destroyed. Calvin dropped his club to get down on his knees and worship at the feet of the great and _powerful_ nilbog. He bent down to place his head and hands on the floor, came up to stretch all the way to the sky, before repeating the bow, all the while a blank expression on his face.

The nilbog, satisfied with its handiwork, drew back its staff to swing at Calvin. The strike, however, was mistimed. As the creature swung, Calvin began a new bow. The twisted branch topped with a broken elf skull sailed harmlessly through the air Calvin once knelt in. Foiled by its own magic, the nilbog just growled.

The archer goblin stowed his shortbow in favor of a curved single-edged sword. It took a diagonal swipe at Brian. The cleric blocked with his warhammer. Instinct kicked in and, for the first time, he moved under the power not of the Gift of Knowledge, but his own training. He caught the opposing blade beneath the head of his hammer and then yanked across his body, just as Ylva had showed him during their little sparring session. The goblin's sword flew out of its grip to land somewhere near the entrance.

Tiffany ran up beside Hector while reloading her weapon. She aimed at the goblin facing down Brian and took a shot. To hit a moving target without shooting her friend proved too gargantuan a task. Her bolt went wide.

Ylva rounded on her only remaining opponent, the goblin to her right. She flicked her sword at it. The goblin dodged and grabbed her wrist. A simple slide down toward her hand saw her weapon wrenched free and flung across the floor. Without wasting a single breath, Ylva yanked her arm free and drew the seax sheathed laterally behind her waist, the one she'd had commissioned from Lundgrum.

Hector uttered some words in Silvan, drew back his staff, and thrust it forward at the goblin that just disarmed Ylva. A beam of pure cold raced from his implement toward it. Ice crusted all over the goblin's torso and left shoulder. The green flesh beneath froze and died. An agonized cry seeped from its lips, but it remained standing on wobbly legs.

Calvin came up from a bow, and locked eyes with the nilbog. What had he been doing? Why was he on his knees? Where was his weapon? As whatever effect had taken him wore off, he only knew one thing: This goblin was somehow responsible. He gathered up his club and prepared to attack.

The now unarmed archer attempted to flee from Brian. The cleric lashed warhammer out as the creature sprinted past him, which caught the goblin in its chest, but didn't do enough to stop it. The thing recovered its curved sword, spun around while drawing its bow, and took a shot at Brian. The arrow buried deep in Brian's unarmored left thigh. He grunted and his weight on the limb faltered. He was okay, if in a lot of pain.

Seeing as its enemy was no longer subdued, the nilbog took the only option remaining. It cracked the staff down on Calvin's shoulder. The impact hardly did anything to the leather tunic the barbarian wore. The nilbog looked behind him, desperate for an escape. This wasn't fun anymore.

Tiffany didn't like that one bit. This goblin thing had weird magic and it was hurting her friends. She aimed upon the nilbog. Before she would loose a bolt, she realized something. The nilbog was well within its right to defend itself. If anything, to do so was an admirable feat. This puffed up goblin deserved her respect, nay, her _praise_. She put down her crossbow and began bowing to the nilbog, as she ought to.

Free of enemies, Ylva charged up to the nilbog. She took a swing at it. What followed was strange, because she was absolutely certain her seax made contact. She saw the blade pass through the purple robe and emerald skin, and even felt her wrist brace against the resistance of a foreign body, yet when she looked at the point of impact she saw no damage whatsoever. She blinked rapidly and shook the cobwebs from her mind. This nilbog was playing with her, destroying her sense of reality. She had no idea what was going on anymore.

While most of his friends focused on the spellcaster, Brian still had his own problem to worry about. He caught up to the goblin archer and pulled back his warhammer. Divine warmth filled him. Bahamut guided his strike, rang it true against the archer's head. The skull caved in. The goblin gave a strangled screech before it spluttered, coughed up a little blood, and then troubled him no more.

Hector repeated his previous action. Another jet of cold sprung from his staff. This time, he barely caught the nilbog's unoccupied hand. The appendage froze up, but its owner didn't seem to care all that much.

In his anger, the only thing Calvin felt was pure rage for the nilbog which had plagued his mind. With a sinister shout he dragged his kanabo straight down. The nilbog's neck snapped in at least two places. Its legs sprawled out on either side. The thing's pelvis hit the ground so hard it bounced once before coming to a stationary stop.

And then, silence. Just like that, it was over. Brian puffed out a few big breaths, not because he was particularly tired, but to expel some of the adrenaline from his system. He didn't have much experience with battle yet, but it always left him a bit keyed up. Maybe that would dissipate with time.

He wasn't the only one, either. Calvin took a few ragged breaths, but for the wrath still in his system. He slowly came down with one long exhale to signal the return of his sate of mind. Then, he kicked the dead nilbog in the face.

"Bitch," he said while stowing his club. Being under the nilbog's influence mustn't have been pleasant.

Hector walked over to Brian. He looked about to say something, but Ylva interrupted him.

"You guys need to come see this," she shouted. Brian hadn't noticed her sneak off into the alcove behind where the nilbog began the fight.

"Is it another hole in the wall?" Jested Brian as he approached.

Ylva shook her head. "Worse."

"Shit, dude..." Calvin trailed off as he joined Ylva. When Brian and Hector reached them, they saw what all the hubbub was about.

The pale corpse of a human man had been laid in the corner. On his head he wore a mask made from the face of a goblin. His feet showed boots made from goblin feet, his hands gloves of goblin hands, just like the madman beneath Isalda's house had done with his rats.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: ...So, the hobgoblin was supposed to be the real threat, here. The nilbog was going to be a distraction while it did heavy damage. I didn't expect Ylva to one-shot it. Without it, the other enemies weren't much of a threat.**

 **For those who don't know, nilbogs have two abilities that make them hard to hit. Any creature who attacks one must make a DC 12 Charisma saving throw or start worshiping it until the end of their next turn. Then, if it would be hit, it can use its reaction to take no damage and heal 2d6. Nilbogs require teamwork to kill. It was going to tie up some people while the hobgoblin hit them. That clearly didn't work out, but that's the beauty of writing fight scenes with dice. They're just as tense and interesting for me as they are for you all, because I don't know what's gonna happen any more than you do.**

 **Not much doing for magic, this time. Other than some simple cantrips, neither side had any spells go off. The fight was completely martial, with most of the damage being done by Ylva.**

 **Noche rolled a 19 to scout the cave. The goblin that threw a rock ad him barely missed his armor class with an 11. And yes, I'm aware fruit bats don't actually echolocate that well. Sue me.**

 **Please remember to leave a review.**


	16. A Night Underground

"What do you think it means?" Brian asked.

The five of them stood around the body of a man wearing the face of a goblin strung over his own. The formed a crescent, arrayed right-to-left as Tiffany, Hector, Brian, Calvin, and Ylva.

"Just that there's one more crazy fuck in the world," said Calvin.

"And he just happens to be crazy in the exact same way as the guy under Isalda's basement? I don't buy it," Ylva said.

"I agree," echoed Hector. "Something doesn't add up."

"Maybe they know each other?" Reasoned Brian. "We aren't that far from Trostenwald."

"Maybe," Hector shrugged. "Honestly, I'd prefer if these two are an isolated incident."

"You think they're part of a group?" Asked Ylva.

"It's possible. We don't really know anything right now."

"Did you search him?" Tiffany asked.

"What?" Intoned Ylva, blinking.

"That's what you're supposed to do, right? Loot the bodies? It's what they do in the movies."

"No, you're right. I'm just surprised _you_ said it," commented Ylva.

"I've—" Tiffany hesitated. "I've been reading about how to be an adventurer," she said.

"What, like 'Guilding for Dummies,' or some shit?" Joked Calvin.

Tiffany fixed him in a narrow-eyed stare for a moment. "There's quite a few books about it in the library, actually. This guy named Taryon has a pretty good one."

"You... _might_ want to find a different book," cautioned Brian.

"What?" Why?"

"I'll explain later," Brian said gently.

"There's nothing here. He doesn't have anything," Hector stood from where he'd knelt over the body of the nilbog. In all that conversation, Brian forgot what they were supposed to be doing.

"Nothing at all?" Asked Ylva.

"No gold, or gems, or a journal, _nothing_ ," stressed Hector.

"Well, dammit," Ylva cursed.

"We might find something else in the cave," Brian began. "We still have a quest to do, here. And who knows? Maybe the goblins hid his stuff somewhere?"

"Well said," Hector smiled. "Everyone, split up. Let's find that chalice."

" _You're_ a chalice," Calvin muttered before wandering off. Brian was annoyed with him for a second until he realized it was probably supposed to be a joke.

Calvin and Hector went straight on for the bodies. Calvin started with the archer furthest from them, while Hector—predictably—poured over the nilbog. Ylva continued poking around the area behind the nilbog. Tiffany prated around the walls.

Brian had a different idea. He went over to the stone column west of the entrance. A narrow passage snaked around it. Following this path confirmed his suspicions. There, perfectly concealed from the rest of the cave, sat the goblins' loot pile. He called his teammates over.

A cursory inspection revealed it to be mostly junk, random shiny things the goblins managed to collect. There were a few coins to be found amongst the silverware, empty bottles, bits of pottery, knick-knacks, and—yes—a few buttons. Other than the coins, it was mostly useless trash.

"So, I just realized something," Ylva said after a while searching. "We never actually asked what the Alice Chalice looks like." She held up a simple wooden goblet and pointed to it for emphasis.

"We also never asked Darmus what his trade goods were," added Tiffany. "I thought of that a while ago."

"Holy shit, guys. We suck." Calvin joked, but he wasn't wrong.

"Well, thankfully, Alice doesn't really care about the chalice. We can just bring a bung of cups back and ask if any are hers. If not, she'll still count the contract as complete," Hector explained.

"What about Darmus?" Tiffany asked.

"I was actually thinking about that earlier," Brian said. "There's no _way_ we'd be able to carry his stuff back, even if we did find it. The most we can do is tell him the goblins are gone."

"We'd need proof of that," Hector said.

"We can just collect their ears, like Jester did with the gnolls," Ylva suggested. "We can probably even find a jar in here to shove them in."

"Hold on, I think I saw a jar earlier," Calvin took to rummaging through the pile.

"Their ears?" Said Tiffany. "Don't you think that's a little morbid?"

"Would you prefer their heads, or their dicks?" Challenged Ylva.

"You're starting to _sound_ like Jester, now," observed Brian.

"Thanks, that was on purpose," Ylva said with a smile for him.

"Found it!" Calvin popped up, holding in both hands what looked like a large mason jar.

"That'll do," Ylva grabbed the jar and walked off, presumably to go collect some ears. Hopefully, she didn't decide to wear them.

"What about the rest of this bullshit? Is it useful?" Calvin asked.

"Only if it belongs to Darmus," supplied Tiffany.

"What about magical?" Brian looked to Hector.

"Let me see..." Hector began tracing symbols in the air while he muttered foreign words. The obvious spell took him a few seconds to cast, after which his eyes flashed purple for a split second.

"What was that?" Calvin asked.

"My first item casting detect magic," Hector said, and then paused. "There's nothing magical in this pile, but there _is_ something over there." He pointed at the column, indicating the cave where the battle had taken place. He locked eyes with Brian before both pairs went wide.

"The staff!" Declared Hector.

"The nilbog's staff!" Brian exclaimed at the same time.

The two of them led the charge over to the dead nilbog. He lay mostly undisturbed where he'd dropped, just missing an ear. Brian looked toward the center of the cave to find Ylva working on the next closest corpse. In this, her seax made a great tool. Tiffany was right, it was a little bit morbid. Not more than hanging up dead bodies as a deterrent, but still pretty bad. Brian wrenched his gaze away in favor of Hector, who had gathered up the staff in his hands.

"What does it do?" Calvin asked.

"Give me a minute and I'll tell you." Hector sat down on the ground with his legs straight out in front of him. He removed a bit of chalk from his pouch and began drawing a spell circle with his right hand, while the left held the staff.

"Come on, lets give him some space to work. He'll be at this for the next ten minutes," Brian said. He followed his own example, and started his way over to one of the goblin bodies.

"I'm going back to that loot pile then. I'm sure there was something good in there," Calvin said.

"I'll come, too." Tiffany fell in behind him.

Brian checked over the corpse with half a heart, and to say that was pushing it. Really, the only reason he bothered with this task at all was to pass the time until Hector finished with his spell. He didn't care about whatever these goblins had on them, and doubted they had anything worth taking at all. He just needed to do something in the meantime.

The goblins carried junk on them even _more_ useless than their loot pile. Brian wiouldn't have thought it possible, yet as he sifted through the damaged swords, twisted arrows, tattered clothes, and ragged shields, the proof lay bare before him. Years of playing RPGs had taught him how to distinguish valuable loot from the less viable stuff. None of this was it. The hobgoblin had the only bit of loot worth mentioning, but even his longsword was just a normal weapon, and likely not worth lugging all the way back to Trostenwald. Unlike Doomguy, he didn't have a magical bag to put heavy stuff in. Not yet, anyway.

"I got it!" Hector called out, and saved Brian from his monotonous task.

The others gathered around the aging wizard as he hauled himself up with the help of his staff. The nilbog's implement lay at his feet. The party formed a wall before him, Ylva with a bloody jar of severed ears held at her side. Brian tried not to look at it.

"So what is it?" Calvin repeated his previous question.

"Well, this is something that would be useful for either of us, Brian. It's a Staff of Lesser Spell Storage. I didn't get the information in game terms, it's more like I suddenly remembered what it does, but I believe it will let you store two first level spells or one second level spell in it," explained Hector.

"You should have it," Brian said without hesitation. "You could put Hideous Laughter in it, or something, and then focus on damaging spells."

"Or," Hector countered, "you could store two extra healing spells in it."

"I'd rather have more damage output, at this point," said Ylva.

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Plus, I already have my hammer, shield, and spells to juggle. I don't wanna add a staff to the mix. I'm best used tying up enemies in melee, not casting spells from the back."

"Okay." Hector hesitated. "If you're sure."

"Positive."

"Thank you, Brian."

A hush fell over the party, and Brian could already feel it getting awkward. What started out as a purely business discussion turned rather tender at the end. He wasn't sure how to deal with the sudden shift. Thankfully, Ylva wasn't having it.

"Alright, so is that this place looted, then?" she asked.

"There's nothing in the junk pile," Calvin said. "I'm pretty sure me and Tiffany got all the coins out. It ain't much."

"The bodies are dry, too. They don't even _have_ coins," Brian added.

"Then let's consider it looted," Ylva said. "What's out next step? I vote we don't go back to town in the dark." She glanced at the now completely black cave entrance. With Hector's light spell up, it had been hard to tell the sun went down. Now that Brian saw it, fear gripped his heart. Bad things happened in caves at night.

"Yes, please. Let's not do that," Tiffany cast her vote, obviously also afraid.

"Why don't we just sleep here?" Hector suggested. "It's secure and off the beaten path. We could move the bodies to the other side of the column and make a fire in the bone pile."

"I was about to suggest that," Brian said quickly.

"I like it, too," Ylva agreed. "Calvin?"

"Beats sleeping outside," the barbarian shrugged.

"That settles it. I'll take first watch," Ylva said.

"No, Ylva," protested Tiffany, taking a step toward the warrior. "You've been going for almost twenty-four hours, now. You need to _sleep_."

"I'm fine for a few more—"

"Remember what we talked about?" Tiffany cut her off, and then softened her expression. "You don't need to do everything. I'll take first watch."

"Second," Hector raised his hand.

"Third," followed Brian immediately.

"Last," said Calvin.

Ylva looked around at the faces of her companions but, knowing she'd find no support in her own idea, acquiesced to their desires.

"Ok. But at least let me help move the bodies," she said.

"Alright, but then you're going straight to bed," scolded Tiffany.

And the five of them went about doing just that. With each of them, even Tiffany, helping to shift around the husks of the dead, they made short work of the night's gruesome tale. Some tinder from the junk pile—and a broken goblin bow—combined with a little arcane fire provided light and warmth to the pit. Tiffany to guard over them, the party turned in for a well-deserved rest. The evening past without incident.

Morning saw travel bright and early back to Ebenestadt. This time, the party mad a b-line for the road before continuing on. Doing so put Brian's mind at ease. While the battle last night had gone rather well, he still didn't want to risk an attack. It was always better to be sensible about these sorts of things.

Arriving earlier in the day provided no difference to the work being done outside the town. Far as Brian could tell, the same amount of farmers tilled the fields as late in the day before. To be up and working so hard so early took a fortitude of steel. Brian admired their ethic, much as it reminded him of his many early mornings back on Earth. Though, his cubical didn't really compare to working a farm.

A guardsman—not Captain Kyp—stopped them at the town entrance, but a short conversation saw them permitted inside. Apparently, word had spread of the valiant adventurers who were going to cleanse the goblin menace. The guard was more than willing to let them in.

To travel the same path as before brought them back to The Bunkhouse. On the inside, it was mostly unchanged, save for a few scattered patrons drinking what Brian hoped was morning coffee. Alice still busied herself behind the bar. Darmus still sulked in his corner. Ylva stopped the five of them just inside the door.

"You guys wanna split up, get this over with more quickly?" She asked.

"What do you have in mind?" Hector asked.

"I was thinking you and I could go talk to Darmus, and the others could go to Alice."

"And which one of us would do the talking?" Said Brian, indicating himself, Calvin, and Tiffany with a sweeping finger motion.

"You, of course," answered Ylva flatly.

"What? Why me?"

"Because you have the cups," she answered. "And because you're the least abrasive. No offense," she added to Calvin and Tiffany.

"No, that's fair," conceded Calvin. Tiffany just sighed.

"We've done this twice before. You'll be fine, Brian," reassured Hector.

Brian looked from him, to Ylva, to Alice, and back again. He heaved a defeated sigh.

"Alright, fine. If that's what you think is best."

"Okay," Ylva said with a grin. "We'll take the jar. Something tells me Darmus will need the more convincing, out of the two."

"Sure," Brian agreed.

The two groups parted ways. Brian's heart pounded as his trio approached the bar. While it was true they had completed contracts before, he'd let Hector and Ylva mostly handle them. He had no idea how to turn in a contract. There wasn't much time to think about it, either, for the trip to Alice was a short one.

As the three of them came up, Alice looked from whatever menial task she had been doing in order to transfix them with a hearty smile.

"My champions return!" She beamed. "Please tell me you were successful."

"We were," Brian said. "Killed 'em all. The goblins have been... eliminated." He silently chastised himself for his stupid word choice. _Eliminated_? Seriously?

"Good shit, Did you bring proof of the deed, just to be sure?" Alice asked.

"Uh... yeah. We took their left ears. Ylva has them in a jar over there." Brian quarter-turned and pointed to where his companion spoke to Darmus. The jar was on the table.

"Ah, why don't we keep that over there," Alice said, and looked anywhere except for at the jar. "What of my chalice? Did you recover it?"

"Well, we're not sure," Brian began. "Most of what the goblins had was trash, but we found a few chalices that could be it."

Brian unslung his pack from his shoulder and extracted seven goblets, all of them wildly different. One was pure wood, another was pewter, another still had empty little craters which most likely contained gems at one time. Unfortunate, that these were not laying around Crumbletop somewhere. Each was placed on the bar before Alice for inspection. She looked over each of them, a scrutinizing finger on her chin. When she reached the end, she shook her head.

"None of these are it," she said. Brian's heart sank. "But, I already said I don't care about the dammed thing. You killed the goblins, and that's good enough for me. I'll sign the contract."

"That's great! Thank you, Mrs. Dullon!" Brian reached into his pack and immediately felt stupid for doing so. He looked back at Hector. "Give me a minute," he said.

He rushed over to the wizard, who stood slightly off to one side as Ylva and Darmus had a somewhat intense looking conversation. Their faces close together, Brian couldn't hear what they were saying save for the harsh whistle of loud whispers.

"Hector," Brian called out. He walked the rest of the way up before continuing. "I need the contract. Alice is going to sign."

"That's wonderful! I knew you could do it." Hector extracted the rolled up bit of paper from inside his robe and handed it to Brian.

"Thanks. How are things going over here?" Brian asked as he took the scroll.

"Darmus is demanding we take him to see his stuff before he pays us." Hector shot a disapproving glance over his shoulder at the dwarf.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," said Brian.

"Yeah. Ylva's trying to talk him out of it, but I don't think it'll work."

"Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks, we'll need it."

Brian walked back over to his detachment, dreading what Hector just told him. Across two separate universes, there was no part of him that _ever_ in any way wanted to go back to Crumbletop cave. That place sucked. But, if dwarves were as obstinate in real life as they were in fiction, Darmus would not budge. …Real life. What a novel concept.

"Here's the contract." Brian handed it to Alice.

"Alright. Give me a second." She produced a quill and ink from below the counter and began signing her name on the scroll. Her scrawl was fast and atrocious, but Brian thought he could make out her name. If that even mattered. "Okay, here you go."

"Thank you very much." Brian gathered up the signed contract.

"Are you kidding? Thank _you._ Ebenestadt rests easy with those creatures dealt with. We owe you."

"All in a day's work." Brian couldn't stop himself from delivering that line, not matter how much he panicked with each word.

"I know it's early, but how about a round on the house?" Offered Alice.

"Thanks, but I think we have other business." Brian looked over at Darmus just in time to see Ylva pushed herself off the table and turn away from him with a huff.

"Oh." Alice wore a sympathetic expression. "Good luck with that."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Come on, guys." Brian led his two companions away from the bar and toward the others. Ylva and Hector met him halfway.

"Darmus won't budge. He says he won't pay us if we don't take him to see his stuff," Ylva said, crossing her arms.

"Seriously?" Complained Tiffany.

"Are you fucking serious?" Calvin echoed a half second later.

"He believes we killed the goblins, but wants to see his stuff before he pays us," Ylva said.

"Fuck that," Calvin said. "I ain't going back there."

"I don't want to, either," Brian agreed.

"Wait did we even discuss payment? I don't think we did," Tiffany said.

"Are you sure? So much happened yesterday, I don't remember," Mused Hector.

"I'm pretty sure we didn't. I think he just told us to get his stuff back for him," Tiffany said.

"Then fuck him," Calvin denounced. "If he wasn't going to pay us anyway, then he can get his own stuff back."

"Agreed. We don't have time to waste on him," said Ylva. "Besides, I do _not_ want to travel with him. If I never see that bastard again, it'll be too early." She spoke loud enough for Darmus to hear if he'd been listening. Brian honestly didn't care if he had.

"Let's just go back to Trostenwald, then. It's a long road, so the sooner we leave, the better," suggested Hector.

"Works for me," said Calvin.

And so they set off, minus one surly dwarf. Good riddance, really. Brian was relieved to be done with him, just as he was to be on his way back to the guild hall. It would be nice to sleep inside and on a mattress for the first time in a few days. Plus, the gold he would get upon returning was also good.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Some good investigation checks all around in the cave to find some stuff, but I never put much stuff in there, anyway. It always bothers me in games when more lowly creatures like goblins have, like 6,000 gold and three enchanted weapons. They're scavengers, and their loot should reflect that. Having said that, the highest was Brian with a 19, so I had him discover the loot pile The lowest was a 7 for Tiffany, which is why she decided the walls were good places to look for things.**

 **There was originally a scene where the party took Darmus back to the cave and had an argument about him not paying them. The only problem with this is I _really_ don't like Darmus. I intentionally wrote him as an unlikable person, but that also means that I hated writing for him. So, I didn't. I'm sorry if the ending feels a little rushed. I just didn't want to spend any more time on a character I can't stand.**

 **Please remember to leave a review. I feel like this wasn't one of my best chapters, so I understand if you all have something a bit more critical to say.**


	17. Late Night Conversations

Brian didn't like the idea of traveling on foot back to Trostenwald. He knew damn well there were no other options, but the prospect sent shivers down his spine. Quite literally, in fact, as the wind that morning blew colder than usual. He could say it was the weather, or exhaustion from the day before, or reluctance to walk all that way. But, no. Despite how he managed to convince himself, Brian knew why he was so hesitant. Going back to Trostenwald meant passing through the same copse of trees they were ambushed in.

Sure, they'd killed the bandits that attacked them, but who's to say there wouldn't be more? It's a natural spot to camp for a night, which made it attractive to both travelers and brigands. He almost suggested to just go around it. The only problem that presented was the time it could add to their trip. Given how late they arrived in Ebenestadt, and how they'd left a bit later this time, going around ran the risk of putting them in Trostenwald at night. Brian didn't find this to be a better solution.

At the lack of a workable solution, the only thing left was hope. Brian hoped nothing bad happened. He hoped they were able to avoid the little copse of trees that spelled such a disaster for them previously. Failing that, he hoped to be of some use if the worst really did come to bear.

When the sun hung low in the sky and it was time to make camp, the party hadn't quite reached the trees. Brian figured this to be the case, anyway, since they hadn't seen them yet. They would have to, if walking down the same path as before. This set his mind at ease, but also presented a new problem. Wildemount was mostly plain land, made of open prairies and rolling hills. Like high fantasy Kansas, only with more inexplicable caves and ruins. This made it great for farming, not so much for camping.

"There are literally no good spots," Tiffany said, looking around as they walked. "My book says to never make a fire in the open. Well, _everything's_ in the open."

"You wouldn't happen to have any tiny huts, would you, Hector?" Ylva asked.

"Not yet," the wizard shook his head.

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Despaired Calvin.

"The same thing we always do: Make camp and take watches, just without a fire this time," reasoned Hector.

"We won't be able to see. None of us have darkvision," Ylva countered.

"I don't think a fire really helps with that," Hector said. "We can't see past the radius of it, no matter how hard we try, so it doesn't matter. A little visibility won't help us see something come at us in these plains."

"That makes sense," Calvin shrugged.

"You wanna just camp here, then? I don't see how any one spot would be better than any other," said Ylva.

"You mean stop walking? Yes, please," Tiffany said.

And they did just that. Hector led them to a spot roughly a hundred feet from the road. There, they set down their packs, found spots, and took a load off. This whole sleeping under the stars thing was so weird to Brian. In the lights and hustle of his home, he rarely ever saw the stars at all. Now, with dusk setting to the night, and the little pinpricks of brilliant luminescence appearing in the sky, he let them take his breath away for a few seconds. It was strange to sleep outside, but he could get used to it.

"Alright," Hector said once they had all settled in. "Who's on the watches?'

"I didn't take any last time, so I'll go first," volunteered Ylva straight away.

"I'll go with the second, then," followed Hector.

"Third," Calvin said with a slight raise of his hand.

"And the last one. Tiffany? Brian?" Hector looked at each of them in turn.

Brian exchanged a glance with his blonde comrade. Terror gripped his heart. This was where he failed last time. He would take any chance at all to get out of it, to push that responsibility off on someone else. On the other hand, he didn't want to burden Tiffany with the same pressure he felt. He knew what was the right thing to do. Actually doing it, however, was another tale entirely. Indecision left him mute. But, the air would not be dead.

"Can I just say how unfair this is?" Tiffany said. "I was thinking about it the first time we camped, but—unless someone really needs to sleep—it really isn't fair to the rest of us that one person gets a full night's sleep without being interrupted."

"You could take your watch together, if it bothers you," suggested Ylva.

"I can also come up with a better schedule. Shorter watches overall to squeeze five into eight hours," Hector added.

Tiffany considered these for a moment. "Let's go with the first one for tonight."

"And we can talk about a schedule later. Great plan," Ylva said. "Is that okay with you, Brian?"

The cleric looked at each of his party members in a sweep of his gaze. Yes, it in fact _did_ feel much better to take his watch with someone, as opposed to alone. Shouldering the burden of protection on his own was a daunting task, but to share the load made it seem far more manageable. Brian looked at Ylva and nodded.

"That settles it, then," she said. "We might as well turn in now, make the most of our time tomorrow."

"I'm good with that," Calvin said. He laid on his back. "Night, guys."

Brian found a spot a respectful distance away from everyone else and laid down on his right side, curling up into a little ball, as was his preferred way of sleeping. It surprised him just how easily rest came. Fighting two days in a row must have left him more tuckered out than one night could heal. He fell almost the same instant his eyes closed.

What followed was a dreamless slumber, as his nights mostly were. He couldn't remember the last truly coherent dream he'd had. Sometimes shapes, or colors, or a face came to mind, but they were just flashes of circumstance, like memories he wasn't sure actually happened. That sometimes made distinguishing fact from fantasy a bit difficult, but he got by just fine.

Usually, Brian didn't mind not dreaming. This time, he dreaded it. Dreams made the nights go by slower. The brain had to comprehend all the things it saw, and thus dragged out the time spent unconscious. Without dreaming, Brian's time on watch would come faster. This thought, unfortunately, was not strong enough to inspire a dream.

When a big hand jostled him awake, Brian gave a jolt, and then audibly groaned. He then felt rather embarrassed about having done both, and so remained turned away from the source.

"Time's up, buddy," said Calvin.

Brian sighed, because his barbarian friend could not have _possibly_ phrased that worse. But, Calvin also had no way of knowing, so Brian just sat up and looked over at him. It was pitch black, of course. Even the moon provided little in the way of light. The only way Brian could tell he looked in the right direction was the large silhouette Calvin provided.

"Anything?" Brian asked.

"Nah," Calvin shook his head. "Think I saw a snake, but other than that, no."

"Alright. You wanna go wake Tiffany?"

"Already on it."

Brian stood and watched the shape of Calvin kneel down next to a person he couldn't see. Calvin shook them awake, and they turned around far quicker than Brian had. How Calvin actually knew this person was Tiffany—or saw them in the first place—was anyone's guess. It didn't really matter, though.

"Did I scare you?" Calvin asked.

"No." Tiffany sat up. "I was already half awake."

"OK. It's been quiet so far."

"That's good," Tiffany said, and then paused. "Go get some sleep, Cal. We can take it from here."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Calvin said. "Night, you two."

"Night," returned Tiffany. Brian didn't say anything at the risk of disturbing the others.

He heard a dew-moistened shuffling as a much smaller shape than the one he'd been dealing with before approached him. In the dark, when he could barley see her, Tiffany looked even shorter than usual. Brian knew better than to mention this, though.

"So," she said. "How do you wanna do this?"

Brian caught her immediately, quoting his favorite Dungeon Master as if she actually knew anything about the man who made their current world. She couldn't, of course, and that soured the moment. The completely unintentional reference was enough to almost make him smile. Almost.

"I was thinking we could split up. You watch over there," he pointed right, "and I'll watch over here," he pointed left.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Tiffany agreed.

"OK, then. Let me know if you need anything," Brian said.

Tiffany might have nodded. He couldn't tell in the darkness. All he knew was that she walked away. For a split second, he thought about going after her, saying he changes his mind. The last thing he wanted was to be alone in the dark, possibly surrounded by bad things. But, he didn't. Instead, Brian cut a wide berth around where he assumed the party was and sat down on the grass in a place he thought to be directly behind his fellow sentinel.

He couldn't stop his head from moving constantly in a desperate attempt to see what was out there. He'd assumed taking a watch in the rolling hills of Wildemount would be much better than a forest. In reality, the exact opposite was true. In the woods, while the trees did obscure lines of sight, they also provided points of reference. Their thick trunks could be made out enough to give a sense of perspective. Here, in the flat plains, there was nothing at all. An endless sea of pure blackness, it enveloped everything in impossible darkness. Brian couldn't tell which way was up, or even his location in space and time. He imagined drowning must've felt similar.

They really had to do something about their dark vision problem. There were spells that could give one the ability to see in the dark, but that didn't really help them when the party only had two casters. And, Brian didn't think he could concentrate on magic in his sleep. So, that left them with items. Something like Beauregard's goggles would work, a thing that required no attunement and could be passed off to each new person on watch. A nice idea, but difficult to find.

About an hour passed when he heard a pair of footsteps shuffle up from behind him. He turned around and propped up on one knee, hand about to draw his warhammer. The approaching figure stopped, and in the darkness Brian thought he saw one hand go up.

"It's just me," said the voice of Hector.

"Oh." Brian released his weapon. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I was," Hector said, sitting down next to Brian, "but I thought you could use some company."

"That's nice of you, but you should get some rest. We have a long day of travel tomorrow."

"I'll rest in a second," Hector said. There was silence between them for a few seconds. "So, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Brian echoed. "Nothing's _wrong_. I mean, I'd prefer if it wasn't so dark, but I'm fine otherwise."

"Come on. I can tell something's up," insisted Hector.

"No, not really. I'm fine."

"Brian," Hector said firmly. "You think we can't see it? You've been out of sorts for the past few days, now."

"I just... really want to go back to town, sleep on a bed for once." Brian deflected, but he knew it didn't sound particularly convincing. He wanted this conversation over with. The last thing he needed was for Hector to worry about him.

"That might be part of it," Hector shrugged, "but I think there's more. You were always cautious, yes, but you were also eager, _excited_ even, at the thought of adventure. Now? It's like you're afraid of every little thing. So, what's wrong?"

Brian took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He was caught, and he knew it, but his first instinct was still to deflect. He could easily throw Hector off the trail, or make it clear he didn't want to talk about it. However, Hector was right. Brian had a problem. Sitting here worrying about it wouldn't make things any better. Here was the olive branch extended to him free of charge. It would be the height of idiocy to refuse it, no matter how difficult the topic was to speak of.

"I'm afraid," he said finally. "No, that's not it. More like... _paranoid_."

"And what has you feeling so uneasy?" Hector prodded.

"It's the bandits," answered Brian. "The ones that ambushed us."

"Is it because they were humans and elves?" Hector asked.

"No. That part was disturbingly easy to deal with, actually," Brian said. "No, it's just... why didn't I see them coming? That one with the axe wasn't even _trying_ to be stealthy. But I didn't even see _him_ , and all my friends got hurt. _You_ got hurt."

"They got all of us," Hector said. "You can't blame yourself for—"

"But I do!" Brian yelled, then looked behind himself to see if anyone woke up. He continued at a more modest volume. "I do blame myself. It happened on my watch. It's my fault. I put everyone else in danger because I wasn't good enough."

"I remember Ylva having similar feelings not too long ago, though she seems to have gotten over it. You two are a lot alike," Hector said. "You can't take responsibility for everything on your own. It's not healthy."

"I can when it's my job and I fail," Brian countered.

"Those bandits would've attacked us no matter who was on watch, no matter if they were seen or not. You didn't make them attack us. _They_ chose to do it. It's unfortunate that it happened on your watch, but it isn't your fault that they came."

"But it's still my fault they ambushed us. If I'd seen them, we would've been ready, but I didn't and the only people I know in this entire world paid for it."

"People get hurt in this line of work," Hector began. "I don't know any more about being a mercenary than you do, but I know that. It's been happening, and it will continue to happen. You can't stop it, but as a cleric, you're in a unique position to ease our suffering. You can't always stop things from going wrong, but you _can_ stop us from hurting when they do. You should take pride in that."

Brian gave a long sigh. He thought about it for a moment. Try as he might, the cleric couldn't argue with his wizard companion. There were some harsh truths mixed in, but everything Hector said made perfect sense. No matter how much he hated to admit it.

"You're right," Brian said. "And I _know_ you're right. Maybe I just needed to hear it from someone else. But I shouldn't even need _that_. You know, we all need to find our own inner strength, and all that."

"Everyone needs a little validation from time to time. There's nothing wrong with that," said Hector.

"Yeah. I know." Brian paused for a few seconds. "Thank you, Hector. It feels better to talk about these things."

"That's what friends do," Hector said. Brian couldn't see him, but he imagined the old man was smiling. "If you ever want to talk about anything else, don't hesitate."

"Sure," Brian said, in the way people did when they really had no plans of actually doing something.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone, now." Hector stood up.

"Okay. Good night," said Brian.

"Good night."

Hector traipsed on back to the group and laid down to get a little more sleep, leaving Brian to stew in his own thoughts. Maybe what he needed was to let go a little bit, not of control, but of responsibility. He'd been blaming himself for the ambush, but what Hector said about the bandits was right. Their plan to attack had already been set in motion. Brian's involvement in it wasn't a factor. He just happened to be caught up. When he thought about it that way, he could maybe come to terms with it. Maybe.

…

The night went by without a hitch. None of Brian's worst nightmares came true. There were no thieves in the dark, nor terrible creatures to feast upon their dreams. Once he got over the fear, it maybe wasn't so bad. It still sucked, of course, to sit alone in the dark with zero perspective of his surroundings. At least, after the talk with Hector, he could bear it. And, Tiffany's presence helped as well. To have someone to watch his back was a huge comfort.

A day of travel brought them to Trostenwald just after the onset of evening. The sun peeked up over the horizon. Within minutes, it would be down. In fact, it _did_ fall by the time the party made it to the guild hall. The guard switch was underway. A pair of dwarves replaced the humans previously standing before the long bed chamber Brian and company had awoken in. This made sense, as the dwarves could see in the dark where the humans could not.

A trip to the armory found them Therdin. He doted about a fine arming sword, polishing its blade with an immaculate rag. Though, the somewhat slow plod of his movements indicated this may have been nearer the end of his day. He looked up at the new arrivals after they were a few steps in and regarded them with that big smile of his. The sword was returned to the wall it came from while he stood and waited for the five of them to approach.

"So glad you made it back," he said when they were within easy conversation distance.

"Glad to be back," Ylva returned. The two clasped forearms briefly.

"Is the contract complete, then?" Therdin swept his gaze across them.

"It is." Hector produced the contract from his back and handed it to the elf. "All signed and ready to go."

Therdin unrolled it to inspect the contents.

"Great work as always," he said. "Give me a second and I'll fetch your reward."

The quartermaster disappeared through a door behind him to the left. He only was gone a few seconds, though. When he returned, a small coin purse weighed down his right hand.

"Okay, here you are," he handed it to Hector. "I'm sorry, but the prize on this one is a bit smaller than the last. A cup is less important than a chicken farm. I hope you understand."

"How much is it?" Calvin asked, an eyebrow raised.

"900 gold."

"Works for me," the barbarian shrugged.

"It's a more than adequate sum." Hector nodded. "Thank you, Therdin."

"No, thank _you_ for your hard work," returned the elf. "Now, by Erathis, you must be exhausted after so many days of travel. Please, find your rooms and have a good night's rest. You've earned it."

"Thanks, Therdin. I think we'll do just that," said Ylva.

No one argued with her as she turned toward the exit, bound for their rooms. They could count out the money later. All Brian wanted right now was to sleep in a place where he didn't have to worry about being murdered by some unseen assailant.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just one roll this time. Hector made a persuasion check to see in Brian believed what he said during their little chat. He got a 19, which blew the admittedly low DC out of the water.**

 **Upon completion of this quest, the party achieved Level 3.**


	18. Downtime

Brian awoke rather sore the next morning. He wasn't aware of how sore he was until sleeping in a proper bed reminded him of all the kinks he'd managed to acquire during their last little endeavor. His right arm—not helped by the fact that he'd slept on it—barely wanted to move at all, both feet throbbed with every movement, and his spine felt bent in at least five different places. How he longed for some Advil, or a nice chair to recline in. Anything, really, to relieve the pain.

Wait a minute, he was a cleric! He had something way better than Advil literally right at his fingertips. Brian grabbed his aching right shoulder and cast a little Cure Wounds on it. Warm radiance flooded through his entire body. With it came relief. The pain melted away, replaced by a comfort he hadn't felt in ages. He'd never healed himself outside of battle before. It never even crossed his mind. It was something he could get used to, most assuredly.

Around noon time, Brian found himself sitting alone in the boys' room. Calvin had gone into town, and Hector was doing whatever it was wizards did when they disappeared for hours on end. So, he had the room to himself. Fat lot of good it did, though, as he still had no idea what to do with his free time. He wasn't the least bit artistic, so writing and drawing were both no goes. He didn't like exercise, or sports, or drinking, which knocked off several activities. He could go shopping, except he didn't need anything and shopping cost gold.

At a lack of other options, Brian sat at the desk in the boys' room reading a book. He'd never been much of a reader, either, but what choices were there? At least the guild hall had a decently stocked library. Currently, his fingers turned pages about halfway through a slim tome. On its cover, a shirtless and red bearded beefcake of a man, wielding a big double axe, astride a white dragon. The name of this tale? _Ragnar the Dragon Rider_. Not the most inventive title, but at least it gave the perspective reader an idea of what to expect. It wasn't very good.

Brian read his book with a less than halfhearted interest. It was something to do, no more and no less. A simple time sink. Not a very good one, of course, but it worked well enough for the ends he wanted it to. That was what he told himself anyway.

He was about to get up and maybe go find something else—something _better—_ to read, when a knock came at the door. Part of him felt the dread he always felt whenever he had to answer a door. Company usually meant someone was about to interrupt whatever he had been doing, and he was always doing something. On the other hand, company meant he didn't have to read anything about Ragnar and his stupid Dragon anymore. He stood to answer.

It was probably Ylva. She was literally the only one who ever bothered knocking on this door. The boys, of course, never knocked since the room belonged to them. That meant Ylva was almost a certainty. So, imagine his surprise when he found not brunette beyond the door, but blonde.

"Tiffany?" Brian wondered aloud. She wore the pink v-neck and blue jeans as when they'd first met, but notably fixed, likely the doing of Hector.

"Hey, Brian," she returned, not quite meeting his eyes. "Do... do you think you could help me with something real quick?"

"Sure!" Brian said, a bit too enthusiastically. In a more modest tone, he continued. "I'm not doing anything else. Please, come in."

He stood aside to allow her entrance. Tiffany walked past him, and he closed the door. It was then that he noticed the book clutched to her chest. It was a thick tan volume, with some blue scroll work Brian couldn't quite see beneath her crossed arms.

"What did you need?" He asked.

"Remember how I told you I was reading a book about how to be an adventurer?" Tiffany began. Brian nodded. "Well, this book has a bunch of illustrations in the back, and I was wondering if I could ask you about a few of them."

"And you're asking _me_ for help?" Brian said.

"Yeah," confirmed Tiffany. "I wanted to ask Hector, but I couldn't find him, so you're my next best choice."

"Oh." Brian had meant why him instead of all the other veteran adventurers in the guild. He took the ego hit in stride, though. Best as he could, at any rate.

"But, you seem to know almost as much as him. And, you have experience with these monsters," continued Tiffany.

"No, I don't." Brian shook his head. "I've only fought them in the game. I don't have real life experience."

"But you have _practical_ experience," Tiffany argued. "If this world is supposed to be just like a game world, then the way I see it, these monsters should perform pretty much the same here as they did back on Earth. The rest of you are probably better off than you think, but I'm not, which is why I need a little help."

Brian pondered this for a moment. He remembered his blonde friend having mentioned similar thoughts along those lines before, though she never extrapolated upon them to this extent up until now. Maybe she was right. Brian wasn't entirely sure if he agreed with her, but he understood her train of thought. Maybe it was worth a shot. Besides, could he really turn down a friend in need?

"Alright, I'll give you a hand. Come on, let's sit down."

The cleric went to have a seat on the bunk beneath his, Hector's bed. Tiffany hesitated before lighting to his left. She placed the book face up on her lap. Brian stole a glance at the cover before she opened it. To his surprise, it was not the tale Taryon had been working on during his time with Vox Machina. Instead, the fancy blue letters spelled out _Darrington's Guide to Adventure,_ in a script so swirly it was almost illegible.

The blonde rogue flipped to the rear third of the book. On its pages lay a veritable Monster Manual. Each sheet contained at least one color picture of a creature found in Exandria, along with a brief description of it. Brian's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He'd expected to be underwhelmed by something Taryon wrote, but it seems he was wrong. Brian could tell this would be an invaluable resource for anyone looking to take up the sword. He was suddenly quite interested.

"There's a lot of things in here I don't recognize," Tiffany said. "I was hoping you could explain them to me."

"Okay." Brian resisted the urge to say how obvious it was she wouldn't know most of Exandria's creatures.

"Like, okay, this thing." Tiffany pointed to a detailed sketch of a very recognizable monster. "It looks like... the only way I can describe it is if Medusa had sex with a meatball. But, the description says its one of the deadliest things in the world. How is that even possible?"

"That's a beholder," Brian began. "It does look really stupid, but don't let that fool you. They really are one of the worst things imaginable."

"How?" Tiffany prodded.

"Well, they're hard to kill, for one. Beyond that, each of these tentacles casts a spell. One of them turns you to stone, one of them makes you slow, one outright kills you, et cetera," explained Brian.

"How do you kill it, then?"

"Teamwork and a bit of luck. That's the answer for most things, really." Brian shrugged.

"Hmm." Tiffany considered this for a moment. "I'll have to read about them some more. How about this one?"

She flipped to a page before the current one. Doing so allowed Brian to discover this section was organized loosely by category, not by name. That Tiffany could navigate such an awful system with ease showed just how much time she'd spend in the book.

"Alright, what about this one?" She pointed to another image, the last one on a page of three. "How are any of these not the exact same thing?"

"They're very similar, I'll give you that," Brian admitted. "Sprites and Pixies are neutral fairyfolk. Pixies are mostly magical, whereas sprites are cunning and deceptive. Quicklings are evil and super fast. They like to play pranks on slower creatures, but won't usually kill."

The two of them went on like that for about an hour. Tiffany had a lot of questions about various monsters, and even a few about general adventuring things such as why so many monsters hung out in caves. The answer being, of course, because if they didn't hide then the fairer races would hunt and kill them. That they were hunted and killed anyway wasn't the point.

It was fun to help his friend study up, much more than he expected. But, he'd never studied with anyone in school, either. He always did it alone. Maybe he just didn't know what he was missing? Beyond that, it was also an inspiration. Tiffany was putting more effort than any of them into becoming a good adventurer. Unlike the rest of her party, she had zero experience with fantasy in general, not just Dungeons and Dragons. That put her at a distinct disadvantage. Instead of wallow in it, however, Tiffany made her best effort to improve. Brian couldn't say he would to the same, in her shoes. It made him want to be better.

When they both were just about studied out and Brian could feel things winding down, he gave a big stretch. It surprised him how tired he felt, but it was a _good_ tired, the kind that came from helping someone. And, by aiding Tiffany, he made the entire party better. That he could help everyone improve at their forced craft filled him with an odd sense of pride. That she was very pretty was neither here nor there.

A knock came at the door. Both occupants turned to face it at the exact same time. A voice followed the interruption immediately.

"It's me," called a familiar Norwegian accent.

"It's open, come in," Brian shouted back.

Ylva did just that. She wore a dark red long-sleeve tunic with the neckline ties undone, an orange belt around her waist, and her sword dangling from it. The bottom hem had a wide white band. It came down to about half-thigh, where then tight black trousers and short boots took over.

The Norsewoman hesitated at the sight of both Brian _and_ Tiffany sitting on the bed. Clearly, she'd only expected to find one person, not just two. After all, this was the boys' room, a place where Brian was pretty sure Tiffany had never set foot until that day. Whatever surprise Ylva felt at the sight of them vanished in an instant, and she put on a warm smile.

"Oh, good, you're both in here. That saves me some time," she said.

"You were looking for both of us?" Inquired Tiffany.

"I was," Ylva nodded. "I need to go see Lundgrum about something. Do you guys want to come with me?"

"Is it about your seax?" Brian asked.

"No, no. That's just fine." Ylva quarter-turned to show him the implement in question, sheathed laterally behind her back. "I wanted to ask him about making me something else."

"Who's Lundgrum?" Tiffany intoned.

"He's a smith, the one who made my seax," answered Ylva.

"You mean your little sword thing?"

"Yes, my little sword thing." Ylva gave a little laugh at that. "So, how about it, want to come along?"

"Sure," Brian said. "We were just finishing up anyway. Right, Tiffany?"

"Yeah." The blonde closed the book and placed it on the bed next to her.

"Want to go visit a blacksmith?" Brian continued.

"Sure."

"I was hoping you would say 'yes.' I'm sure it beats hanging around here all day," Ylva said.

"You have no idea," agreed Brian.

"Oh, I think I do." Ylva began to depart. "Come on, I'll lead the way."

Brian and Tiffany shared a glance before making to follow. Brian took up the rear on their way out, closing the door behind them.

Ylva lead the way to _Lundgrum's Ironworks_ , which was good, because Brian doubted he could have found it on his own. He still hadn't bought that map he'd been wanting for a while now. It continually slipped his mind in favor of the thousand other things he had to worry about on a daily basis. With topics like battle, keeping his friends safe, and getting home to ponder, whether or not he had a map in his pocket seemed trivial at best.

Trostenwald looked more or less the same as it always did. It always kind of amazed Brian how consistent the town was. Back in New York, there was always something going on. There were roads to fix, structures to build, movies to film, crashes to go around, and any number of other things. Here? Not so much. The people seemed to live cozy lifestyles, free from the ever-changing day to day of a modern world. It was neat, and just a little bit boring.

The telltale sounds of hammer on metal betrayed the coming of a smithy long before the trio of humans reached it. Trostenwald tended to be a somewhat quiet town, so something to sharp and loud traveled for quite a distance, even despite the myriad of buildings around it.

Stepping inside revealed the source of the noise. Lundgrum—with his bald head and grey-flecked black beard—stood at the same huge basin forge pounding on what looked like it was most of the way to becoming an axe head, though Brian couldn't tell what kind just yet.

Ylva stopped them several feet away. She waited patiently for Lundgrum to finish what he was doing. The dwarf set the piece back into the fire, and Ylva took that as her cue to approach.

"Lundgrum!" She called into the shop, her voice bouncing ever-so-slightly off of the stone walls. The smith looked up and regarded her with a smile.

"Ylva, my girl! It's been a while." He abandoned the forge to approach them.

"It certainly has." They clasped forearms, much in the way Ylva and Therdin did, though Lundgrum had a noticeably tighter grip.

"How's the seax treatin' you?" Lundgrum asked as they released.

"It's great, exactly what I wanted. Already killed a few goblins with it," Ylva said.

"Ah, the most noble use of a weapon," Lungrum said with reverence. He then regarded the other two arrivals. "And I see you brought a new friend!'

"I did." Ylva gestured toward her blonde companion. "This is Tiffany, another one of my party members. Tiffany, this is the smith I was telling you about."

"Hi," Tiffany said.

"Nice to meet ya, lass," returned the smith. "So, what can I do for yeh?"

"I'm in the market for some javelins," Ylva said. "They don't need to be anything fancy, just pointy and throwable. Is that something you could make for me?"

"I could, but I don't need to make them. I have some on hand," Lundgrum said. "Come on, I'll show you."

Lundgrum led the three of them through a door on the other side of the forge. Inside was a small armory, much like the one in the Adventurer's Guild, but on a minuscule scale. It had weapons handing from pegs on the walls, a box full of swords shoved in point down, various polearms, a pike that stretched all the way to the ceiling, some proper dwarven axes, and even a thresher flail. Brian didn't see any armor, though.

The dwarf them over to the corner left from the door. There, they found a box similar to the one of swords, but this one contained javelins. There were about twenty in total.

"I like to keep some basic weapons on hand, for people who just want an axe but don't care about making a custom order," explained Lundgrum.

"That's a good idea," Brian agreed.

"Unless you're looking for something really specific, any of these will serve you just fine." Lundgrum indicated the box.

"No, I'm sure these will be fine," Ylva said.

She took one from the box and inspected it. Brian and Tiffany both stood back from her as she did. Ylva first tested the weight, hefting it in her right hand a few times. Seemingly satisfied, she held it perpendicular up to her face to peer down the shaft with one eye closed.

"Perfectly straight," she said, lowering the implement to stare it up and down, "a great balance, and is this ash?"

"You've got a keen eye on you," commended Lundgrum. "Aye, it is indeed ash, the finest wood for bows and javelins."

"And there's plenty of it around here. It even has a leaf-shaped blade, which is exactly what I was looking for. I think this will do just fine," Ylva said.

"Excellent! I figured you would like them."

"I think three should be enough for now. Do you have anything to carry them in?" Ylva asked. Lundgrum didn't say anything, just pointed to the wall behind her. All three humans followed his indication to see a long canvas tote handing behind Ylva. "Oh. Okay, perfect. I'll take that, too."

"Very well. That's one gold for each of the javelins, and six silver for the bag," Lundgrum said.

"Here, take four gold." Ylva fished the coins from a tiny pocket in her tunic's hem. "The extra silver is a tip for being such a fine craftsman."

"Thank you very kindly, lass." Lundgrum accepted the gold form Ylva. From the disbelief thick in his accent, Brian guessed he probably didn't get many tips.

"No, really, thank _you_. These should help us out immensely," Ylva said while she picked out two more throwing spears.

"Of course. Wouldn't want you gettin' skewered out there," Lundgrum said.

"Neither would I." Ylva placed the javelins in the bag.

"Anything else I can do for yeh?"

"Not unless these two want anything." Ylva indicated her friends.

"I'm good. Thanks, though," Brian said. Tiffany just shook her head.

"Alright, then. Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me," Lundgrum said.

"We do," said Ylva with a sweet smile. "Have a good day, Lundgrum."

"You too, lass." Lundgrum gave her a wave. Ylva returned it, and they were off.

* * *

As they departed the store, the Norsewoman slung the bag of javelins over her left shoulder. Something about it just looked _right_ on her back, like they always should've been there in the first place. Having made a successful purchase, the trio walked back to the guild hall. It was still a pretty boring day, all things considered, but Brian counted it among his good ones. Studying with Tiffany, and then shopping with both her and Ylva? He could think of _much_ worse ways to spend his time.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Short chapter, no rolling. I'm having a hard time giving these guys things to do outside of quests. When running a real game, it's a lot easier to play downtime because players will always find something to do. In a narrative context its much harder to pull off, especially with Fantasy. Most normal people don't really do anything interesting in their day-to-day. This problem is exacerbated exponentially in a low-tech world where there are fewer things to do overall. These filler chapters aren't fun to write, and I know they're not fun to read, either. I'm going to work on restructuring my pipeline, here, and try to give the party more time on quests. I already have an idea on how to do this that I think should work out well enough.**


	19. Bloody Sunday

Brian hunkered down at the edge of the treeline. To his left, Ylva. His right, Calvin. Hector and Tiffany crouched a step behind him. A week had passed since his little study session and shopping trip with the girls. Now, it was back to work on a brand new assignment.

Before them, in a clearing atop a shallow embankment, rested a lone steeple. It lay still and silent, a forgotten symbol of some bygone era. But Brian knew better. They all did. Their task on this day was to oust some bandits from this abandoned church. It once belonged to a group of Sarenrae worshipers, but a fire saw it abandoned long ago. The stained glass window depicting the armored, winged deity remained mostly intact, only a few holes to mar the surface.

"So, what's the plan?" He asked when the silence became monotonous.

"Well," Hector began, "Once again, I don't really see any way of sneaking in there. If these bandits are as entrenched as the contract suggests, they'll make us the moment we leave the trees."

"Do you think they'll come out and get us?" Brian asked.

Ylva shook her head. "No, they'll stay inside, fight us on their terms. It's safer for them."

"So, we do what we always do, then. Run in, fuck shit up, get out," supplied Calvin.

Tiffany huffed from behind them. "Just _once_ I'd like the option to take a stealthy approach."

"Hector's old, Brian's clumsy, and I jingle like Santa Claus. No offense, guys," Ylva said. "I don't think we're ever sneaking much of anywhere."

"Well, still," insisted Tiffany. Brian couldn't see her, but he somehow knew she'd crossed her arms.

"That settles it, then," Hector stood up. "Standard formation, everyone. Let's get this over with."

Standard formation required a bit of jostling. The front line shuffled around a little. When done, they stood Calvin-Brian-Ylva, ten feet between them with Tiffany and then Hector filling the gaps five feet behind. This was the stance Ylva designed for the fight against the wolves. Strange, how long ago that quest felt.

With a moment to gather nods from the men at her sides, Ylva took the first step forward and out into the open. Brian half expected a hail of arrows to meet them the moment they appeared. What happened instead was... nothing. In a way, that was even worse. An immediate assault removed the tension from the moment. He could focus on the fight and forget about the approach. With no fight to focus on, all he could do was peer into every nook and cranny with the utmost paranoia.

Though in reality short, the distance to the church felt much longer than it was. The only remnants of the fire which raged this long and narrow building were the scorch marks on the burned stones. Structurally, save for a collapse in the back of the left wall, it was mostly intact. Grass had grown back over the scorched earth, and vines covered the exterior. There were even a few bushes scattered here and there. From outside, it looked like a normal, completely innocuous ruin.

With every step, Brian's heart rate increased. This was always the worst part, in his minimal experience. The calm before the storm was hardly calm at all. He spent every second of it stressing out of his mind, waiting for something— _anything—_ to go wrong. The bandits could attack at any moment, despite Ylva's most likely accurate tactical assessment. Brian wouldn't relax until the battle began. Then, a new kind of worry would replace it, but at least it was one he had a say in directing. Here, he walked at the mercy of his enemy. He hated the way that felt.

They reached the door of the church. Or, where the door would be if it still had one. Brian expected Ylva to pause for a second and take the lay of the land. But, no, she just pressed right in. The party passed two at a time behind her before fanning back out to formation immediately once through the threshold.

Brian didn't like what he saw on the inside. Though, it was more or less what he expected. The stone floor was mostly devoid of furniture. Only a couple pews remained. Two human bandits stood directly in front of him, damaged swords drawn. On the opposite side, closer to the back wall, menaced another pair with crossbows drawn and pointed. One of them appeared to be a half-elf. Along the center line, atop a raised dais doubtless used for sermons, stood an obvious wizard in long robes, blue in the front and white at the sides. A big brute of a thug guarded him.

Looking over all of this, a man sat in a chair balanced in the exposed rafters. He wore leather armor and a sword at his hip. Shaggy blond and blue eyed, he was handsome in the way rugged scoundrels tended to be. This must've been their captain.

"Travelers!" He called and spread his arms out wide. "Welcome to our humble abode. I don't any family crests or golden chains, so you must be from the Adventurer's Guild. Truly, we are humbled that such a prestigious organization would honor us with an audience." He spoke well, for a bandit. Brian wasn't sure if that bade well or not.

"We accept your gratitude," Ylva said in a way which made it obviously an insult.

"But of course, fair maiden," returned the captain. Ylva bristled at the title. "Now, I hate to be so curt, but I must ask you to leave. We don't take kindly to uninvited guests around these parts."

"Not happening," Calvin said.

"Then you leave us no choice but to engage."

"It doesn't have to end this way," Hector said. "Our contract is to remove you from this location, not kill you outright. If you leave in peace, no one has to get hurt."

"And what right do you have to demand our retreat? Why should we leave these lands just because you said so?" Reasoned the captain.

"This isn't your land," Ylva fired back.

"It isn't yours, either. It belongs to no one, which means anyone is free to take it."

"Does that also give you the right to attack travelers and raid the nearby farms?"

"We do what we must to survive, just like you all."

"I'm sorry, but I can't accept that." Ylva drew her sword. "We have a job to do, and we will do it." She nudged her shield into her other hand.

"Then we will meet you with arms. Get 'em, boys!"

At the captain's orders, the bandits surged forward. The rest of the party drew their weapons, prepared to fight.

Tiffany immediately dashed over to duck behind the remnants of a pillar to her right. The intent had been to hide, but as she crouched down, her eyes locked with that of a crossbowman. So, maybe she wasn't so hidden. In an attempt to take out the one who'd just spotted her, she aimed her own weapon and fired at him. The bolt grazed him, but still cut a deep gash in his shoulder.

Ylva charged straight up to the bandit furthest on the right. The man seemed taken aback by her sudden reckless attack. He leveled his weapon to swing, but doing so left him open. Ylva took a split-second to line up her shot, and then plunged her sword downward through his heart and out his lower back. His mouth opened in a quiet scream of terrified agony. With a sneer, Ylva withdrew her blade. The smote bandit fell.

The bandit mage hated to see two of his companions attacked, and one killed outright. He held out his left hand, palm forward. With the right, he made circles around it. One, two, three, four, until the palm glowed with yellow energy. A shout of something in Sylvan, and the energy released. A quartet of magical darts rocketed from the hand, flying in erratic overlapping patterns. Try as she might, Ylva couldn't keep track of the dizzying projectiles. They slammed into her one right after another, their force transferring from her armor to the flesh and bone beneath. She grit her teeth against the pain, swaying on her feet, but refused to topple.

The crossbowmen moved up, marching shoulder to shoulder. They stopped just outside of Calvin's engagement range. One of them fired at the barbarian, but somehow managed to miss his target. The half-elf aimed at the obvious spellcaster. Hector saw the bolt coming at the last possible second. He threw up his right hand, a trail of sparkling purple behind it. The bolt shattered against the magical shield.

His attention drawn to his big friend, Hector could see things were about to get very bad for Calvin. May as well even the playing field, then. He removed some powdered iron from his pouch and tossed it at the barbarian. At the same time, he clapped his hands together and uttered a few words. He separated his hands as if they were a big mouth. In doing so, golden light raced forth from him to catch the iron. The effect covered Calvin. His size began to swell, double, and then triple, until he towered over the battlefield. He seemed confused for a moment, but then gave Hector a mischievous grin.

Good thing, too, as the situation for him went from bad to worse. Breaking free from behind the crossbowmen charged a halfling, clad in leathers and with an axe bigger than he was. The new threat held his weapon at full length and directed it toward Calvin's knee. The barbarian swept his great club low, deflecting the attack.

Calvin answered the attack against him with one of his own. He brought his now massive great club crashing down on the halfling berserker. It caught a shoulder. For a wonder, nothing in the little man snapped, but the hit clearly winded him.

In keeping with what Hector had told him not long ago, Brian made his way over to Ylva. He only made it a few steps before a distinct metallic ting cut through the din of battle. Brian looked down to see his foot on a pressure plate. His brain barely had time to process what this meant before a creaking whoosh drew him to the tree trunk swinging from the roof straight toward him. The wood hit him square in the chest. He uprooted and flew back several feet, though managed to land back on his balance.

Now notably panting, and with great effort behind every movement, Brian continued on to Ylva. His chest was on fire, likely from several broken ribs. But, he pressed on. No amount of pain could stop him, not when his friends needed the help only he could provide. He tapped Ylva on the shoulder to allow some divine magic into her system. Brian couldn't see any visible wounds on her heal, but the smile she gave him confirmed he'd done his job.

The thug guarding the mage knew a healer when he saw one. He charged up to Brian, swinging his mace with reckless abandon. The cleric managed to put his shield before the first attack, but the thug was strong. The strike knocked his arm to one side, opening him up for the follow-up strike. Brian took an upsweep the to the kidney. The shockwaves rippled through his broken ribs. He cried out and stumbled a step, all he could do to remain upright.

Spurred to action, the remaining bandit swordsman moved to the opposite side of Ylva. He supplied a horizontal slash. The shieldmaiden moved her shield across to block it, and then followed up with a stab straight down the middle. Just like his comrade before him, this bandit also fell to her blade.

Tiffany saw the situation unfolding by Calvin, and also deemed it to be of utmost importance. She reloaded and fired at the berserker. Her shot went wide.

"Fuck!" She shouted, driven to cursing by the sheer frustration of a miss at the worst of times.

Ylva knew she had to lock down the enemy wizard. She broke from the thug and approached him, receiving a mace to the back for her efforts. No time to worry about that now. The healing Brian provided allowed her to ignore the attack and press on. The bandit mage threw his hands out in a desperate attempt to shield himself, but—unarmed and unarmored—he was defenseless to stop her. Ylva cut through his chest, a blow that cleaved both his heart and a lung. There would be no recovery for him.

The berserker had the presence of mind to utilize his forced downward momentum. He swung upward. His axe dug into Calvin's calf. The barbarian grunted, surprising himself with how loud his voice sounded. No transgression could go unpunished, so he smashed the halfling again, but still failed to unseat his opponent. Tenacious little bastard.

Hector summoned his bat, Noche, and whispered in his ear. The fey creature flitted off to fly around the head of the leftmost crossbowman. Hector used the momentary distraction to attack. He placed a drop of water atop his staff. He made a diagonal slice down through the air, trailing blue behind, and then thrust straight forward. A shard of ice rocketed toward the currently harried man to bury itself in his heart. The bandit looked down just in time to see it explode. The detonation left a cavity in his chest, while shards flecked the other crossbowman as well as the berserker.

Brian, thoroughly battered and barely on his feet, locked eyes with the thug assailing him. One hand gripped his holy symbol. The other, the man's neck. Black tendrils climbed down his arm and into the thug. Whatever confidence the man felt turned to panic. He coughed and wheezed, clawing at Brian's hand. His mace flailed around wildly, but he lacked the strength to do any damage. The frantic attempts at life became slow and exhausted until the thug went limp in his grasp. Brian opened his hand. The thug hit the ground. A brief second to consider the life he snuffed out, before Brian moved up next to Calvin.

The remaining crossbowman looked from Brian, his fallen comrade, the dead thug, and back again. With only a second to decide his next move, he shot Brian through the arm and fell back to the cover of a pew several feet behind him.

A pair of bandit women wielding crossbows leapt down from holes in the ceiling. They landed on the same crossbeam the captain currently sat on, watching the battle unfold. One of them took a shot at Hector, but the wizard deflected it with another purple field. The other aimed at Brian. The bolt embeded facing downward in his shoulder, missing his neck by less than an inch. He had just enough time to feel the pain, for the fear to set in, before his world went black, and his face hit the tile.

Without a second's hesitation, Tiffany ran up to him. With one hand, she hauled the healing potion from her pouch. The other attempted to turn Brian over. She wasn't strong enough, however, and had to set the potion down and use both appendages to turn him onto his back. She ripped out the bolts in his arm and shoulder, then shoved the potion in his mouth before the wounds could bleed out. The punctures closed just enough to stanch the flow of blood. Brian's eyes fluttered open. He was weak, but alive. Tiffany gave him a tight smile before she transitioned to a knee and loaded her weapon, crouching sentinel over her downed friend.

Ylva smiled as an opportunity to use her newest toys presented itself. She dug out a javelin and hurled it at the crossbow bandit in the rafters, right of the captain. It had been a long time since she practiced throwing, and so her toss went wide. She sneered and summoned her strength to throw a second missile. This one obliterated the bandit woman's knee. It wasn't the javelin that killed her, but the back snapping fall onto a pew below.

She ran over to the crossbowman on the ground. The bandit dropped his weapon in favor of a shortsword. He took a chop at Ylva, but the fighter easily met it with her shield.

The berserker drew back his axe and lunged forward. He managed to carve through Calvin's shin. The barbarian answered with a wrenching slice of his club. This time, when the berserker took a hit, he did not stand back up.

Calvin went to help Ylva, but on the way he stepped upon a bear trap hidden within the rubble. The metal snapped up on his foot, but couldn't quite get a grip on its enlarged victim. The pain was like stepping on a thumbtack, annoying but easily ignored. Calvin carried on, sheering the trap to bits as he went. He came up on the crossbowman diagonally from Ylva.

Tiffany aimed at the remaining woman in the rafters. Her shot passed through an arm, severing muscle and tendon as it went, but didn't seem to do much damage.

Ylva struck at her opponent. Though assailed by two different opponents, the man still somehow had the facilities to parry the diagonal swipe.

Hector moved into range with the crossbow woman. This put him directly in the middle of the room. He uttered the magic words, drew his staff back, and thrust if out. All of this, while bold, was also rather obvious. The woman saw it coming from a mile away. To sidestep the attack proved rather trivial.

She could not, however, avoid what came next. Brian got to his feet. A hand on his holy symbol, he allowed yellow light to engulf his other outstretched arm. Words of praise for the King of Dragons, and the energy blazed toward the crossbow woman. She didn't even see the holy radiance that engulfed her. She gave a fleeting scream before the light of Bahamut reduced her to nothing but cinders. Ash rained down from where she just stood, glinting like snow in the afternoon sun.

Now alone in a room full of deadly fighters, the remaining crossbowman took his only option. He dropped his sword and ran. Ylva wasn't having it. She struck upward along his ribs as he turned tail. The sword bit deep. The force of it ripped him from his feet and sent him sailing off to one side. When he hit the ground a few feet away, he didn't move.

The bandit captain, having watched all of his men die one by one, took a final look at the battlefield before he stood and fled. He climbed up through the rafters with practiced motions, swinging from one beam to another, until he made it through a hole in the ceiling and out of sight.

"You're not getting away!" Ylva screamed after him.

The Norsewoman sheathed her sword. She ran up the raised dais the mage had been standing on, leapt off the railing, and grabbed the lowest beam. A feat of pure strength hauled her up one-handed. From there, she picked a path up toward where the bandit captain had just disappeared. A second before Ylva vanished from sight, Brian offered up some healing words for her. He prayed it would be enough.

Tiffany attempted to follow in the same manner, but slipped off the railing. Dumb luck allowed her to land on her feet. Ylva was well and truly alone to face down the boss.

The hole in the ceiling lead onto the roof. Ylva could see the captain running along the raised beam between where the two sloping sides of the roof met. She didn't know where he was going, nor did it matter.

"Hey!" She growled at him, stepping onto the beam. The captain slowed to a stop. With an air of irritation, he turned to face her.

"Persistent, aren't you?" He started to walk his way back. "You just _had_ to interfere. Did their lives mean nothing to you? Are you such a slave to your contract, that you—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Ylva cut him off. "I'm through listening to your grandiose bullshit. You're nothing but a highwayman, another crook with a superiority complex. The contract doesn't matter to me, not anymore. I'm here to put you down, to stop you from hurting anyone else."

"Well said." The bandit caption looked genuinely impressed. "But I'm afraid this is where your journey ends. You aren't the first would-be lawman to try and kill me, and you won't be the last." He paused. "I like that sword. I think I'll take it from your corpse."

Ylva settled into a fighting stance, shield before her, sword hidden behind. "Come and get it, then."

"Gladly." The captain drew his arming sword.

The Ringleader opened the bout with a simple overhead slash. Ylva took it on her shield, countering with a cut from the left. Steel met steel as her sword was blocked. She whipped her blade around to swing from the opposite direction, but it met the same fate as the last. The bandit stabbed. His point met the metal bosse on Ylva's shield. She sliced vertically, and he faded back away from the blow.

The two squared off a few feet away from each other. Ylva presented her left side to the Ringleader, shield up and sword behind. The bandit, in contrast, didn't seem to know what stance he wanted. He switched from a fencing stance, to something that looked vaguely wushu, before finally settling on something with his weapon side out, pointed at Ylva's nose.

Bored with all this posturing, the shieldmaiden closed the distance. She used the obfuscation of her shield to poke a surprise stab at the bandit. He was late to respond, but still managed to bat it away with the base of his blade. To counter he swung back the other way. Ylva defended with her shield and answered with a vertical chop, only to clang against metal. The bandit tried to maneuver his weapon around to swing at her head, but she bashed his wrist with her shield. The swing was thrown way off line.

Ylva attempted to capitalize on her opening with a strike over her left shoulder. The Ringleader stepped out of the way. Ylva came again from the other side, and this time was blocked. The bandit kicked at her, digging his foot into the inside of her left leg. A combination of pain and the sudden force brought her down to one knee. The Ringleader went for her head. Ylva leaned forward and put her shield up high. While the implement caught the opposing blow, she thrust out her own weapon. The Ringleader's leather armor was useless to stop the blade passing through his abdomen.

A pained cry filled the air as blood ran down Ylva's sword. Reacting on what must've been pure instinct, the bandit unleashed a powerful push kick. It caught Ylva's shield and did no damage, but did manage to plant the woman on her rump. The sword slipped from her grasp to remain instead within the Ringleader. A bit of the reddened point stuck out his back.

Ylva got to her feet. The previous fight, combined with the run to this one, showed through the heavy breaths which passed her lips. The Ringleader fixed her with a hateful glare; a glance down at the weapon in his stomach and up again. Disarmed of said sword, Ylva set her shield and stepped forward. Just a little more, now.

The bandit met her with a diagonal swing. Ylva let it bounce off her defenses while landing a kick to his right thigh. He stepped back, cutting on the way. Again, his attack met wood. Ylva shoved him back. He let out a grunt from how the sword jostled within him. Though his steps backward were unsteady at best, he managed to stay upright.

Ylva continued to push the attack. The bandit was swinging wildly, now. He'd lost all martial sense. This, for him, was a fight for survival. He brought down a broad hack. Ylva met it early, deflecting it. In the same motion, she drew the seax from the scabbard at her tailbone. Holding it point-down, she sliced him from shoulder to sternum, then redirected to bury the dagger into the side of his neck.

The air escaped from his lungs in an admission of agony and defeat. The expression on his face flashed to one of shocked surprise, before sagging limp. Ylva removed her knife. The bandit fell backward. Hitting the roof forced the sword from his belly. It clattered against the singles, sliding a few inches before it came to rest against an edge. The Ringleader wasn't so lucky. His now lifeless body slid from the roof, trailing thick red blood the whole way.

Ylva gave a look for the spot where he fell. It had been a good fight and a well earned victory, but it for some reason left a pit in her stomach. She put away her seax, gathered her sword, and went to rejoin the others.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Everyone made dexterity checks to follow the bandit captain through the rafters. Ylva was the only one who succeeded, which made for a very cinematic duel on the roof.**

 **I did something a bit different for the fight with Ylva and the captain. I still let the dice decide who won, but I stylized it as a more traditional fight scene. Fight choreography is my bread and butter. It's what I feel I'm best at. I saw a chance to include a proper fight scene in this story, and jumped on it. I hope you all don't mind.**

 **I'm abolishing the upload schedule. Some of you may have noticed I started a new Star Wars fic a few days ago. Working on two fics simultaneously would mean keeping track of two deadlines, and I know that would drive me crazy. So, instead, here's what I'm doing. Updates for each of my active stories will alternate, and be posted whenever I'm finished. You won't go more than two weeks without an update on either, there just wont' be a concrete day and time.**


	20. Can't Please Everyone

The first thing the party did after Ylva returned was move the bodies all into the far left corner of the church, not to get them out of the way or prepare them for burning, or anything noble like that. No, putting them all in one spot made them easier to loot. Doing so turned up little, however. When all of their coin purses were upturned, about 600 gold fell out. None of them had any sort of magical or otherwise uncommon weapons. Even the mage carried no wands, nor scrolls. The best find was a normal potion of healing, which Tiffany claimed to replace hers.

Ylva's return had been, in and of itself, a non-event. For Brian, this was simply because he hadn't the time to start worrying about her before she came back. He got a different feeling from everyone else, though. Ylva was the only trained warrior amongst them. None questioned if she were the best fighter on the team. Her success against some random lowlife was a sure thing, plain and simple. This assurance did wonders for the team, but Brian hoped it didn't increase the already mounting pressure on Ylva's shoulders.

Once through with the corpses, the party moved on to the rest of the structure. There was a room behind the dais, which Brian suspected had been at one time used in the preparation of sermons. It was U-shaped and rather slim. The presence of bedrolls and footlockers indicated the bandits turned it into a lodging of sorts, a place to rest after a long day of pillaging. Brian, Hector, and Tiffany searched this room, while Ylva and Calvin remained out in the main hall to look around.

Hector made the first find, a little bag containing a few gems. Brian recognized onyx and quartz thanks to their unique colors, but there were red, blue and brown morsels he couldn't quite place. He wasn't a jeweler, after all. They didn't look quite splendid enough to be ruby or sapphire, though. He pocketed the bag with a promise to have it appraised and sold back in town.

Brian found mostly clothes and random personal artifacts. One of them clearly worshiped Kord, if the figurine and little holy symbol were anything to go by. If Brian were a betting man, which he wasn't, he'd say this particular trunk probably belonged to the Halfling. Something about a little man with a big axe revering the god of war just made sense. He also managed to find some tattered robes from the mage, and some crossbow bolts that really could've been anyone's.

Tiffany had been rather quiet all this time, which wasn't unusual, but still made Brian wonder what she was up to. An inspection of the room found her sitting on a bedroll immersed in a beat up old leather bound book. She scratched her head and then turned a page.

"What do you got there?" Brian asked as he approached. Tiffany glanced up at him before returning to the tome.

"I think it's the captain's journal," she said.

"Anything good?"

"Not yet," Tiffany denied. "He's just talking about his daily life. It's a lot of rambling, and some bad poetry. No secret stashes, or anything like that."

"Damn, that's what I was hoping for," Brian said.

"Yeah, me too."

"Well, I'll leave you to it. There doesn't seem to be much in here, so I think I'm gonna go check on the others." Brian pointed toward the door. Tiffany gave him a wave, and he walked away.

"That sounds like a good idea." Hector joined him in leaving the back room.

The two of them stepped back into the main worship hall to find the rest of their party on either ends. Ylva was closest to them, digging through a pile of miscellaneous rubble. Calvin stood near the far end, seemingly on about the same thing. By the complete lack of vigor Ylva showed in her search, they appeared to be having similar luck out here.

"You guys find anything yet?' Brian spoke to Ylva, but called loud enough for Calvin to overhear.

"Not really," Ylva denied, standing up. "I found a few coins laying around, and some dried goods, but not much else. Calvin found a skull, though."

"I found a skull!" Confirmed the barbarian from the other side of the room. Holding it in his hand, he walked over. "Probably belonged to one of the monks," he called on the way.

"You think it was monks?" Hector asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, who else would build and then use a church in the middle of nowhere?"

Hector shrugged. "That makes sense. Sarenrae's followers _do_ tend to be a little more monastic than other congregations, from what I understand."

"They can't be monks," Ylva said as Calvin made it to them. "This building is too small. There's nowhere to live around here."

"This might just be the center of town," Calvin argued. "There could be a whole settlement around here in the forest."

"Or, they might not have had time to build one," offered Brian. "We don't know when this fire took place. It could've been right after it was built."

"Too bad there aren't any documents laying around," lamented Hector.

"They probably burned up," Ylva said.

There came a pause as everyone peered about the space for a moment. Brian could feel this quest grinding to an end. They would probably be done in the next few minutes, which suited him just fine. Something about this building gave him the creeps, as if he stood in a place that once contained great power, but now lay abandoned. Maybe the cleric in him was more attuned to holy energy? That sounded like nonsense, but in this world, anything was possible.

"So, do you guys wanna keep looking around, or are we done here?" Hector asked.

"I don't think there's much else to find," said Ylva, and Brian nodded.

"What kind of bandits even were these, anyway?" Calvin said. "I mean, they don't have anything other than gold."

"This _is_ kinda the middle of nowhere," Brian answered. "They probably didn't have much of a chance to do much banditry."

"Then why even bother setting up here?" Calvin continued.

"To hide," said Ylva. "If they don't want to be found, then it's best to find a place no one goes to."

Brian agreed with that. It may have made for fewer opportunities to steal, but also provided better protection from the law. Calvin looked as though he were about to say something, when Tiffany came out of the back room.

"Guys, I think you need to hear this," she said, jogging up to them book in hand.

"What is it?" Asked Ylva.

"I found the captain's journal. Just listen," she began to read aloud. " _This crazy-ass elf came by the church today. I think he was an elf, anyway. I couldn't tell, because the fucker was wearing a bear's head. I mean, as if it were a helmet or a mask. Just a severed bear's head, and paws on his feet like gauntlets, and some tattered shorts. He had blood streaking down his bare chest, and smelled like he hadn't washed in weeks._

" _So anyway, I send the boys to figure out what the fuck he wants. Like the dumbasses they are, they bring him to me. He says something about 'our scar on the world' and 'returning the land to its birthright' and a bunch of other crazy shit. I have no idea what he's on about, so I threaten to kill him if he doesn't leave. He says his mom will make me regret that. ...I know! Super fucking weird. Hope I never see him again._ "

The atmosphere in the room shifted. Brian looked down at the stones beneath his feet, trying to take in all which he just heart. He knew what it meant, of course, but couldn't admit it to himself. From the somber moods of those around him, he suspected his companions thought the same. The silence clearly annoyed Tiffany, as she spoke up.

"Don't you guys see what this is? It's another one of those weird guys!" She said.

"I know, Tiff," Ylva answered. "I'm just trying to figure out what it means."

"Three is a trend," Calvin said, as if it were something profound.

"What?" Hector prodded.

"It's something the Marines say. Once is random, twice is coincidence, three times is a trend," explained Calvin. "It means if something happens more than twice, then it'll keep happening."

"You think these three are part of something?" Brian sought clarification.

Calvin shrugged. "Why else would they wear dead animals and talk to bandits?"

"What, like a cult?" Ylva said.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," argued Hector. "We don't know anything about these people."

"I don't know, man. They seem pretty cult-y to me," countered Calvin.

"What was that he said about their scar on the world?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah, or about his mom," Calvin added with a grin. "Maybe they're all just a bunch of mommy's boys."

"It's probably a bit deeper than that, Cal," denied Ylva.

"I know. It was a joke."

"We need to tell Edgar about this when we get back," Hector said. "These people are putting themselves in danger, and I don't like this guy's tone. They could be trouble."

"I was about to say basically all of that," Brian agreed.

"Until we know more about these people, it's probably better to let the powers that be know," Ylva said.

"Yeah, and then let them handle it. I don't want any part of this," Tiffany said.

Brian silently agreed with her. He didn't sign up to fight crazy wannabe bear-men. He also never signed up at all, but that wasn't the point.

"Well, that raises the question of what we're gonna do tonight," Hector said. "If we leave right now, we could probably make it back to Trostenwald by nightfall."

"I don't like that idea," Ylva denied instantly. "We're all a bit banged up. If we find trouble on the road, we might not be able to handle it."

"But if we rest here before heading out, then we might as well just stay the night," Tiffany said.

Ylva nodded. "That's what I was going to suggest. We stay here, recuperate, and head out in the morning."

"I like that a lot," Brian said. "We could even make a fire in here, and actually be able to see for once."

"Sounds good to me," Calvin said.

"That settles it then," declared Hector. "We move the bodies outside, and then sleep on their old bedrolls."

And so, that's what they did. Though, Calvin and Ylva did most of the heavy lifting. Brian and Tiffany, unable to help much, decided to make a space for the fire, which involved moving all of the footlockers to one side and forming a wide circle with the beds. Tiffany gathered some of the old timber and clothes as fuel, and Brian used a bit of divine magic to set them alight.

Brian jumped on the first watch before anyone else was able to take it. He'd learned through past experience that the first and last watches were the most coveted, as they gave their participants the longest period of uninterrupted sleep. Also, he'd noticed Calvin usually took one or the other, which he did this time by claiming the last.

The first watch went off without a hitch, as Brian more or less expected it to. No one knew they were there in the church, and the enclosed space prevented anyone from finding them. It was nice to go on watch and be relatively safe. Exandria, for all its dangerous monsters and marauding brigands, was beautiful at night. Even from inside this dingy old structure, Brian heard crickets chirping, night birds calling, frogs from a distant pond, some kind of little creature calling in the distance. The serenity of it washed over him. For the fist time in a long time, he felt legitimately at peace.

It gave him time to think. He had come quite a long way since arriving in this world. They all had. From not even really knowing how to use his powers, to fighting intelligently as a team with the rest of his party, Brian's journey to this point amazed him. And, considering he had even further to go otherwise, his mind staggered at the possibilities.

Just for the nine hells of it, Brian grabbed his holy symbol. He upturned his other hand to allow some divine energy to flow through it. A golden glow encapsulated his palm. There, in his hand, sat an impossible spark of life, of the power given to him by the Platinum Dragon. But, did he really deserve this power? Other clerics dedicated their entire lives to serving their patrons. Brian thought Bahamut was made up until a few weeks ago. Did the simple act of picking up a holy symbol make him worthy of wielding the power it provided? If only he could cast Commune.

These notions plagued his mind until eventually Ylva came to relieve him. He went into the back room, chose a bedroll with empty space on either side, and fell in it. Despite his harrowing thoughts, the serenity of the night overtook him the moment his head hit the straw pillow. Sleep came in almost an instant.

No dreams accompanied the slumber, as was his usual. Brian simply closed his eyes, ready to open them once again when morning came. However, he would not quite get his wish. The streaming lights of daytime were not what woke him up. Rather, a series of harsh clangs.

His eyes shot open. The Gift of Knowledge took over, allowing him to sit up and grab the warhammer laying next to him in the one slick motion. He first looked around to see both Hector and Tiffany also sitting, and Ylva already on her feet. Next, his attentions turned to the source of the cacophony. Calvin stood in the entrance to the back room, banging his club on the wall repeatedly.

"Everyone up!" He shouted over his own noise. "We've got company!"

"Calvin," Hector said, but his voice was drowned out.

" _Calvin!_ " Tiffany yelled, a sound louder than a person her size should be capable of. The barbarian lowered his weapon and looked at her, eyes wide as if impressed.

"What kind of company, Cal?" Ylva asked, clearly annoyed at the rude awakening.

"The crazy animal head wearing kind," he answered.

At his words, Tiffany sprang to her feet followed shortly by Brian. Hector followed a moment later, his old bones unable to stand with the same ferocity.

"This is bad," Tiffany said. "The captain's journal said they would regret turning away bear-head guy. They must've come back to deal with them."

"How many are there," Hector asked.

"Eight," Calvin answered simply.

"And is this a fight? Do we go out guns blazing?" Ylva asked. "So to speak," she added.

"They said they just want to talk, but I don't know."

"Well, then, let's go meet them politely," Hector said. Staff in hand, he began to make his way out of the back room, giving the others no choice but to follow.

Brian liked his direct approach. If these fiends were waiting for Calvin to come gather the rest of his friends, then they'd likely not stand around for them to strategize in secret. Going out to face them, even if it mean doing so mostly blind, was the right call.

The cleric was second to last out, followed by Tiffany, preceded by Ylva, Calvin, and Hector. Upon arrival, Brian found Calvin's assessment to be true. There were, indeed, eight of them. Moreover, each wore a grizzly outfit. All of them were in various states of undress, most without shirts. What shoes they did wear were made from animal parts.

Two sported hog heads over their own. One had what looked like an eagle's beak strapped over top of his own. A topless elven woman wore a crown made from the heads of ferrets. A dwarven man had covered almost his entire body in a patchy blanket of bluejay feathers. One woman (more dressed than the other) sported a disfigured bull's head, while a halfling chap wore gloves and boots made of stitched together chicken feet. In the center of them all stood a shirtless hunk of a man, skin magically altered to the appearance of tree bark, his head covered by a stag's with its antlers ground to jagged points.

"Is this everyone?" Asked the Stag, his voice slimy in presentation but also muffled by the ghastly organic helmet.

"Yes," Calvin answered.

"Curious," noted the Stag. "When we saw the bodies piled outside, we expected to see more of you."

"It's just us five," confirmed Ylva.

"And am I to assume you're responsible for cleansing this space?"

"You are."

"Then I should thank you for saving us the trouble." The Stag gave a little bow, one that came off as more condescending than in any way noble. "But I must ask, what was your business here?"

"We are mercenaries of the Adventurer's Guild," Hector said. "We were hired to remove the bandits from this location."

"I assumed as much. So you work for coin and contract, and you think yourselves, what? Good? Honorable?" The Stag challenged. "What right were you given to take their lives?"

"Weren't you about to do the same thing?" Ylva countered. "You just said we saved you the trouble."

"Intent is everything," said the Stag, as if it were a profound statement. "See, you work to benefit yourselves. _We_ work to benefit the land."

"And who exactly _are_ you, anyway?" Calvin chimed in.

"We are holy warriors, the purest protectors of the soil, guardians of Exandria as it should be, the punishers of heathens and false idols." The Stag explained. It would've been a grand statement, if not for how the animal head made his voice sound.

"If you're protectors of the realm like we are, then I don't see why there should be a problem," Hector said.

"Not of the realm, of the soil," the Stag corrected.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Ylva said so only her companions could hear. Louder, she called: "What do you want with us?"

"Well, my dear, that depends on what _you_ want," slithered the Stag. "What are your plans for this building?"

"Plans?" Hector looked around to his friends, who were of no help. "I don't think we have any plans. We just came here to do a job. I didn't think any further than that," he said. Nods from Brian and Ylva confirmed they were of the same mind.

"Of course you didn't. You unclean masses never do," the Stag said. Hilarious, coming from him. "What if the worshipers come back? What if they rebuild this place?"

"That would be a good thing, right? Churches don't hurt anyone." As the only man of faith, Brian felt compelled to risk speaking up.

"They hurt the world!" The Stag turned his ire on Brian. "Structures like this aren't supposed to be here. Why cut down majestic trees and trample the dirt just to stack up a few stones? No matter the intent, it is not the right of we greater races to claim the land for our own."

This man's growing anger threw up an immediate red flag for Brian. Angry people often did irrational things. They were prone to violence and impulsive actions. He didn't like where this was headed, what would happen if the Stag couldn't be calmed or reasoned with.

"This land isn't claimed by anyone, currently," Ylva began. "It's obvious you don't want us here, so we'll go. No need to get angry about it."

"You may go, yes, but what others will come? What have you accomplished if more hoodlums show up? How have you protected this land, and those living around it, if more people come to take it?" The Stag grew more insistent with every word.

"I can see about finding the Sarenrae worshipers who used to live here. Her followers are more reasonable than others. I'm sure we could convince them to stay away," Brian said.

"Don't waste my time with your false assurances," spat the Stag. "If we occupy this land, can you tell me the followers of this heathen goddess wouldn't just cleanse the church for their own use?"

"Well, I—" Brian attempted.

"No!" The Stag cut him off. "You can't promise the sanctity of this hill, nor that of my brothers and sisters."

"Like I said, no one owns this place. If you want it, then I'm sure you can come to an agreement with the people around here," Ylva said.

"We don't want to _own_ this land, we want to _return_ it," said the Stag as if it made sense. "It's clear to me that the only way to ensure that, is to make sure you can't tell anyone of what happened here."

"Please, we don't have to fight," Hector said. "We want nothing to do with this."

The Stag ignored him. "Let the people think this place still occupied. Let them believe you failed, and keep away. In doing so, the soil shall reclaim what is Hers."

Ylva drew her sword and shield. Brian grasped his weapons a moment later. Calvin hadn't actually put his away yet, so he simply grabbed it with two hands. Brian looked around but couldn't find Tiffany, which was probably a good thing.

"For Her glory, bring down the infidels! Attack, brothers and sisters! Make them one with the soil." The Stag urged his people forward. At his behest, they charged.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: A few persuasion checks to see how the conversation played out. I designed four in total. The party needed to pass just half to avoid conflict. Each failure raised the DC by one. It started at 14 when Hector said they had no plans for the church. He failed this with a 6. Next was at 15 when Ylva offered to leave. She rolled an 18 to succeed. Still at 15, Brian offered to speak with some Sarenrae worshipers. He barely failed at 14. The DC now 16, Ylva offered diplomacy with the surrounding area. She rolled a 10. With three failures, the social encounter came to blows.**

 **This is not a very diplomatic party, as you can maybe tell. With the exception of Hector, none of them rolled well for charisma. The highest social bonus is a plus 4 from Tiffany, but only because she's proficient in it. The quietest member being the best talker doesn't help anyone, though, so it falls on Ylva (who has no bonuses) and Hector.**

 **For what it's worth, they aren't very good fighters either. The only one who rolled well for his class is Hector. Ylva and Calvin are both barely above average in strength, Tiffany is exactly average in Dexterity, and Brian is wise, but not very strong or tough. In terms of stats, the party kind of sucks, and I love that about them.**

 **This is the closest I will ever come to releasing full character sheets, so stop asking about it.**


	21. Strange Encounters

****This chapter has been reuploaded, as FFN was having major server issues at the time of the original posting****

* * *

From her hiding spot up in a little alcove on the dais, Tiffany watched the transaction go down. She saw the stag head wearing man stand front and center from his comrades. She heard as this enemy spouted nonsense about the land and whatnot, saw in his eyes through their ghastly coverings the fervent hatred in his heart. It didn't take a genius to tell the situation was going down hill, and fast. So she sat sentinel, ever watchful, crossbow at the ready. The moment the antagonists drew their weapons, she let loose a bolt. It found the heart of the man to the farthest left, one of two clad in a hog's head. He couldn't even look down at the bolt before it took his life.

Stunned, the unsuspecting animals looked to their now fallen friend. When they then peered toward the darkness where the bolt had flown from, it was with anger and intent. With that first blow struck, the fight was on.

Calvin let go a warrior's shout. "If you pussies wanna fight, then come get some!" Kanabo held high, the barbarian stood his ground.

The other hog, enraged by the death of his swine-shod brethren, was happy to oblige. He charged straight up to Calvin. Like pinch hitter swinging for the fences, Calvin aimed straight for his head. The blow turned the hog mask, well as the skull within, completely around. With a sickening snap, the second and last hog-man died.

The woman clad in chicken's feet sprinted up to Brian, leveling a hatchet. Her blow came down on Brian's shoulder, and while it failed to break the armor, it still hurt quite a lot. Since she struck high, he retaliated low. With one hand on his holy symbol to the Platinum Dragon, his other grabbed for her midriff. Black tendrils snaked down his arms and into her body, the now familiar call of Inflict Wounds. The woman's veins bulged black and rotten. She let out a withering cry of fear and agony before her skin turned ghostly white and gaunt. She fell at his feet, dead.

The dwarf dressed in bluejay feathers moved upon Ylva. He fainted high with his sword, and then stabbed low. Ylva, still reeling from how quickly negotiations failed, took the bait. The thrust fell right below her shield and through her maille armor. The tip didn't go far, but still caused some damage.

From his spot directly behind the line of battle, Hector poured a drop of water on his staff. He sliced through the air, light blue trailing behind the weapon. He then thrust straight through the lingering tail. A spike of ice shot from the contact point, destined for the Stag, who managed to step out of the way. The ice sailed past him to burst in the air directly behind. Both he and the eagle's beak wearing man were caught in the blast radius. The beak man jumped out of the way. The Stag was not so lucky. Shards of ice flecked across his bark skin.

The topless woman in her crown of ferret heads walked out into the middle of the room, not far from the melee. A knife pricked her finger, and she flicked a drop of blood at them from the wound. This drop expanded to a dark cloud, one which threatened to overtake Ylva, Brian, and Calvin. Brian automatically grabbed his holy symbol, and Bahamut's radiance saved him. The other two weren't so lucky. Clouds coalesced around both of them, thunderheads clouding their vision.

"Can't see!" Calvin screamed.

"I can't focus! What is this?" Ylva called a second later. But Brian knew, for he had access to the same spell. His friends had just fallen victim to a Bane.

The beak man saw the danger of such spells, and moved away to prevent their power. He grasped something around his neck, a silver pendant with a blue wave in the middle. Brian realized this was a holy symbol a moment before green light gathered in the beak-wearer's palm and streamed for Ylva. The shieldmaiden had no chance of defense. The light slammed into and through her. When the illumination faded, Ylva was not on her feet, but instead unconscious on the floor.

Distracted by this sudden and terrible turn of events, Brian failed to notice the bull-headed chap casting at him. He caught a flicker of motion a split-second before a magically propelled rock hit him from behind. The impact staggered him a step. Stars swam through his eyes. A wide stance was the only thing to keep him upright.

The hits kept on rolling for the cleric. The Stag drew a bit of fat from his animal head. He combined it with a bit of grey stone and some iron from a pouch at his hip. Some words in a foreign language, and these blossomed into a great raging inferno. The man pointed to a spot behind Brian, and from it sprang up a rolling sphere of fire. Brian tried to step away, but the ball plowed into him. He had just enough time to feel the overwhelming heat before he blacked out within it.

Tiffany wasted zero time at all in rushing over to her downed friends. She'd seen this before, and while it still made her heart sink, experience drove her feet. Deft hands clambered through Brian's pouch to where she knew he kept his healing potion. She uncorked it with one hand and shoved it down his mouth. While the liquid poured down his gullet, she hefted her crossbow and shot at the feathered dwarf. The point delivered death to his neck. As he fell, Brian's eyes flickered open. Though the heat still surrounded him, he was awake and alive. Once again, he owed Tiffany for saving him.

Calvin saw an opening and broke away from the pack. He took a wide path through the room, giving plenty of space to the girl with ferrets on her head, though he would've liked to hit her for casting at him. There were other targets to prioritize. The barbarian stopped adjacent to the Stag and used the sudden stop in his momentum to launch a vicious swing. The great club caught the Stag in his shoulder, and while he bent at the impact, he did not crumple.

The ferret-wearer detested the idea of her leader coming under attack. She moved up behind Calvin, put a hand on the symbol around her neck—one identical to the one worn by beak man—and uttered a few words. Black tendrils snaked down her arm. She reached out to grab Calvin's shoulder. The barbarian, having heard her cast, spun around and batted her hand away.

"Oh fuck no you don't!" He yelled. "I know what that shit is!"

With everyone else distracted by their fights, Hector saw his chance. Arcane utterances on his breath, he passed his hand in a trio of circles around the top of his staff. Each pass trailed fire. At the end, he thrust forward. Three rays of fire twisted and swirled through the air. One hit the Stag, one burned the ferret woman, and the last slammed into the beak man. Hector had hoped choosing these targets would dispel the magical effects plaguing his friends, but that was not the case.

Brian's first act upon regaining consciousness was to reach over and heal Ylva with a hand on her forearm. He then stood and took a few steps away from the flaming sphere. The releif he felt upon exiting the fire was both immediate and overwhelming. It took his breath away, and halted his movement.

The beak-man had taken quite the beating from Hector's fire attack. Most of his right side had been charred black. He knew his time in this world wound slowly to an end. He limped over to his leader, dragging one burned foot behind him. A hand on his holy symbol caused green to encapsulate his other outstretched palm. He passed the healing energy into the Stag, and then fell to a knee.

The moment Ylva's eyes opened, she snapped to her feet. She charged forward, a fire behind her eyes. Rage burned within her, fueled by hatred for this new foe. First they ambush her friends, and then they attempt to take her out first? The audacity simply could not stand. She produced one of her javelins and, with hardly a second to aim, hurled it at the beak-wearer. His prediction came true, as the missile drove him to the ground. Ylva did not stop there, however. She made a second throw, this one at the Stag who had just been healed. The javelin embedded in his side. He screamed out and glared at her, but did not disengage from Calvin.

The woman wearing a bull's head recognized the immediate threat Ylva presented. She moved to stand directly in front of the shieldmaiden, a safe distance away. She spoke some magic words and rubbed her hands together. Embers flicked between them until she thrust both out. A flaming fan emanated from her. A good attempt, but far too obvious. Ylva planted herself against the stones beneath her. The flames passed overhead, and while they were hot, they hardly did anything. When they passed, Ylva stood back up, a sly smirk on her face.

The Stag knew he couldn't last in direct combat with the much larger Calvin. So, he shouted a single word and stomped his left foot. A sound like thunder cracked through the church, and for a moment no one could hear anything. With the Stag as the epicenter, a blue wave rippled out. It washed over Calvin, but he stood firm. The wall of force could not tear him from his feet, though the impact rocked him.

The Stag looked from Calvin, to Ylva, and back again. Everywhere he looked, his options deteriorated. His eyes locked on Brian. Yes, if he took out their healer, this would swing in their favor. He directed his flaming sphere to once again hit the cleric.

This time, Brian was wise to it. He swung around and batted it away with his shield. To his surprise, it actually worked. The sphere bounced off, landing right next to him. He still felt the heat wash over his body, but abating the attack kept it from crippling him. However, his limbs felt heavy and his head throbbed. He doubted his ability to withstand much more punishment.

From her perch, Tiffany lined up a shot against the topless woman and her ferret crown. The bolt hit her in the back. She gasped and stumbled forward. The ferret-wearer looked back in search of the attack, and while she did find Tiffany, the act of doing so distracted her. The clouds harrying Calvin and Ylva dissipated. Ylva shivered, and Calvin took a deep breath. Both had forgotten what it felt like to move at full speed, to think without obstruction.

So excited was Calvin, he launched a swift attack at the Stag. But, his arms weren't yet used to working normally. The Stag managed to draw his quarterstaff and beat the attack away.

The ferret-wearer saw her opportunity to strike. While Calvin recovered from his failed attempt, she once again let the black tendrils gather down her arm. This time, she deposited them into Calvin's back. A pain the likes of which he'd never known stole his breath, caused his entire body to seize up. He managed one strained, long breath. Quick as it came, the agony vanished, but not before leaving its mark. Calvin's veins bulged, and much of his skin had withered to black.

The fight was going a lot better for his side, but not good enough. Hector moved up to within dangerous proximity of the melee. From his pouch, he produced three little tarts. He crushed them in his fist, and then waved a feather at the Stag. A familiar pink mist floated from him to collect around the Stag's animal helmet. From within it rose up a chorus of terrible glee. Unable to contain himself, the Stag fell, rolling with laughter.

Having seen the power his own spells produced, Brian knew the importance of removing that strength from the enemy. He grabbed his holy symbol and sent a call to Bahamut. Golden light gathered in his other outstretched hand. It grew to blinding luminescence until, with a push, he shot it forward. The beam engulfed the bull-headed wizard. He gave a stifled cry. When the light dissipated, all that remained of him was ash. The moment that was finished, Brian ran all the way to the far wall in an attempt to get as far away from the flaming sphere behind him as possible.

Ylva moved up behind the ferret-wearing elf woman. She took a swipe, but the noisy jangling of her armor gave her away. The elf leaned out of the way, a glance for her new opponent. Ylva took a deep breath. She needed to focus, to center herself. Just a little more.

The Stag rolled around on the floor, voice rough with constant laughter. The sane part of his mind, the piece of him that knew what was happening, screamed at him to regain some amount of control. But he couldn't, it was just so funny! Wait, what was? Had he even heard a joke? Maybe that sane part of him was right. Maybe it was time to—he froze in place, the joy abated in a gasp. He looked around at the battle devolving around him, but had no time to do anything about it.

He watched a crossbow bolt sprout from the neck of his last remaining ally, the elf with her crown of ferrets. She clutched the bolt and fell, gasping for breath she could not get. He reached out to her, but a great impact shattered most of his ribs, and rolled him onto his back. The Stag looked up at the enemy barbarian, grimacing down at him, studded club on the upswing.

Footsteps drew his attention. The Stag looked to his right to find the aged wizard approaching him. The old man crouched down, speaking a few Sylvan words. Electricity arced between his fingers. The Stag tried to scramble away, but was too slow. The charged hand grabbed his broken chest. He didn't even feel the pain as all of his muscles locked up. The only thing he knew was utter despair before he saw the light, and his life faded away.

Brian watched all of this happen. Normally, after a battle, he remained on edge for a moment while he waited for more enemies to show up. This time around, he simply didn't have the energy. He slumped against the wall, miraculously staying on his feet but utterly incapable of supporting his own weight. He watched Calvin fall back onto his rump, breathing hard. Hector also settled into a sit, and even Ylva took a knee. The only one of them not utterly exhausted, Tiffany climbed down from the dais and approached the other three, crossbow in hand.

"Holy shit," Calvin said between rough breaths.

"Is everyone okay?" Tiffany asked.

"That was really bad, guys," Calvin continued.

"Is everyone okay?" Repeated Tiffany, more insistent this time.

"No, Tiff. Everyone is _not_ okay," answered Ylva. She got to her feet, slowly sheathing her sword.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Calvin continued to ignore everyone and just shout into the void.

"We can't stay here," Hector said from his spot on the floor.

"What?" Intoned Calvin.

"We can't stay here, we need to leave," Hector reiterated. "There could be more of them. We need to get back to Trostenwald, to safety, as soon as possible."

"You want us to walk all the way back to town after all _that_?" Calvin couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He's right," said Ylva. "We can't survive another attack like that if more come."

"That's assuming they're just as strong," Calvin said. "They could be weaker, or just a cleanup crew."

"They could also be stronger," countered Tiffany. "Or, this could be the last of them. We don't know what's out there, which is all the more reason to leave."

"I agree," Brian called from his spot on the wall. With gargantuan effort, he hauled his shield up and rejoined his party. He spoke as he approached: "I know none of us like to travel at night, but I don't see any other choice."

Brian stood next to Tiffany. His arm sagged from the weight of the shield strapped to it. Every breath came out as a wheeze, a puff which saw his whole chest expand, and then empty. That fight had taxed him to his very last. A combination of exercise and battle damage brought him to the brink of collapse. But, he was there, to stand with his team in a show of solidarity.

Calvin gazed between all of his teammates, clearly feeling his options deteriorate. "Can we at least take a breather, then?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," agreed Ylva. "We take a quick rest, make some torches, and then head out."

"We don't need torches, I have Light." For emphasis, Hector spoke some magic words and touched a dead lightning bug to a rock. It burst in a brilliant display of white light, illuminating most of the church interior. He held the rock in his palm.

"Even better."

"I can patch us up, in the meantime." Brian struggled to speak, to find his voice through huffing breaths. "I think I need a spell for myself, though. I can barely stand."

"Whatever you need, Brian," Hector said.

So, with permission, that's exactly what happened. Brian started by giving a big spell to himself, one that made him feel almost completely better. He then moved on to Calvin, who seemed the most hurt. The barbarian also got a spell to get rid of the decayed flesh. A quick treatment for his bruises, and he was right as rain.

Ylva's wounds were a bit more difficult. The only one worth worrying about was a puncture in her midsection, which first required a removal of her chain shirt. She then pulled up her tunic just beyond her naval. Brian's first reaction was to blink. He almost looked away. Ylva had a bit of muscle tone on her abdomen, nothing gratuitous, but she clearly took care of herself. It made sense, considering how strong her arms were, but Brian never really thought about it until just then. So, thread and scissors in one hand, he just stood there starring for a few seconds.

"Go ahead," encouraged Ylva. "I'm not gonna get mad at you, or anything."

As she often seemed to, Ylva read his mind. Brian met her green eyes briefly before returning to the wound in question. He knew it was uncouth to touch anyone without their express permission, regardless of gender. He'd been afraid doing so now would cross some sort of unspoken barrier. That Ylva gave her approval put his mind at ease. With deft hands guided by the Gift of Knowledge, he stitched her up.

That done, he took a well-deserved seat. As the unhurt members of the party, Hector and Tiffany took up guard positions. The former watched the hole in the west wall, while the latter kept an eye on the front entrance. While this was a good idea, it proved unnecessary, as roughly a half hour passed without incident.

That didn't make Brian feel any better as they set out, however. Hector took the lead. The rock in his hand lit the way. Brian peered at every shadow created by its light. He dialed in on ever sound, checked behind each blade of grass. Twice now, his party had been ambushed. Twice, it hadn't gone smoothly. They would not be taken unawares again, not if he could help it. If that made him a bit jumpier than usual, then so be it.

They plunged into the forest, nary a skip in Hector's step. Brian would've preferred to stick back and scope things out for a few minutes, but the wizard had other plans. Since he didn't want to be literally left in the dark, he kept up with the pack.

Brian couldn't keep his eyes locked on one spot for more than a second. The forest simply presented too many nooks and carnies, too many things to look at. There could be an enemy behind any given tree, waiting to jump out and attack. Each bush carried a trap desperate to be sprung. The shadows hid unspeakable horrors. The night birds calls were the cries of deranged monsters. The leaves smooshing beneath their feet betrayed the onslaught of approaching marauders. Brian was so on edge throughout the entire short walk, he didn't even realize it when he no longer traversed those depths. He had to blink a few times to bring himself back to the present.

As the attack happened during the last watch, time spared the party from walking at night. By the time they reached what remained of the path up to the church, the sun had already begun to creep over the horizon. Daytime out in the open meant a greatly decreased chance of coming to blows another time. Perhaps they all worried about nothing, an understandable plight given what they went through.

The anxiety they felt proved completely unfounded all the way back to Trostenwald. Granted, the walk was only about half the day, which left little time for anything to go wrong. Brian wasn't really thinking on that level. As they walked through the gates and into the bustling city, it amazed him that they made it there in one piece.

Did this people know? Brian watched them going about their daily business, working, talking, traveling to and fro about whatever errands they had to run, all of them lost in the humdrum of everyday life. Did they have any idea of the crazy people living practically just outside their walls? That was one of the advantages of civilization, the ability to ignore such things. Brian envied them.

The five walked to the guild hall and entered through the armory. Therdin was nowhere to be found, so they continued straight on to Edgar's quarters. Hector gave the door a good couple knocks.

"Enter," said the voice from inside.

Hector opened the door to find Edgar in the same spot as always, sitting behind that little writing desk on the right wall just beyond the entrance to his room. The party filed in as Edgar greeted them.

"Ah, you're back. Did you complete you contract," the old man asked.

"Well, yes and no," Hector began. "We eliminated the bandits, but since this contract was given to us by an organization and not a person, we couldn't get anyone to sign it. We were hoping you could tell us what to do from here."

"Let me see the scroll." Edgar held out his hand. Hector produced the scroll from his pouch and gave it to the old man, who immediately began casting a spell on it. "The entire reason we bother enchanting these things is for situations like this. If there's no individual client, the scroll will tell me if the job has been completed."

Edgar took a few seconds more to cast the rest of what seemed to be a fairly complex spell. He moved his free hand around in an intricate pattern, tracing sigils over the scroll. Purple lines followed his fingers, and while Brian could make out obvious letters, they were in a language he didn't recognize. When he finished, there came a flash of blue light from the page, and then it dissolved in the familiar glittering purple ashes.

"I take it that's a good thing?" Calvin remarked.

"Perceptive, aren't you?" Edgar's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Yes, it's a good thing. Had you not met the requirements of the contract, it would have flashed red and remained whole. That it is gone means the job is complete, and the 1,600 gold reward is yours." Edgar produced a coin purse from his sleeve and tossed it to Tiffany, who let it fall into her waiting hands.

"Thank you, Edgar," Ylva said.

Edgar nodded. "Is there anything else?"

The party all shared a moment of hesitation. They looked around at each other, unsure of how to proceed. After almost a minute of this, Hector spoke up.

"There _is_ something, actually," he said with an air of caution.

"Well, out with it," Edgar prompted.

"In the night—well, I guess early morning, technically—we were attacked by this group of..." He paused to find the right word.

"Fanatics," Ylva supplied.

"Fanatics, yes. They all wore dismembered parts of animals on their bodies. One, for instance, wore a stag's head over his own, while another had a crown of severed ferret heads."

"Shame. She would've been fine, otherwise," Calvin said. Brian thought the timing of his comment highly inappropriate, but he couldn't disagree.

"The point is," Hector brought them back to task, "they came at us. Hard. We almost didn't make it."

Edgar took a deep breath and pondered this for a moment. "Do you have any idea what they wanted?"

"Not really," Ylva shook her head. "They said something about removing the church from _the land_ and how they were _protectors of the soil_ , or something like that. Called themselves holy warriors."

"We found this journal," Tiffany said. She stepped froward and produced the journal in the hand that didn't clutch the coin purse. "I think it belonged to the bandit captain. One of these fanatics had visited them before and tried to convince them to leave. When they didn't, he threatened to make them regret it. We think they had come to kill the bandits."

"And you just happened to be there at the wrong time," Edgar completed the thought.

"This isn't the first encounter we've had with them, either," Hector said. "We told you about the crazy guy in our very first job? We didn't mention that he wore a giant rat's head and had gloves made of rat's feet. We think he was a part of whatever group the people who attacked us belong to."

"This is interesting, indeed," Edgar said. "There have been sightings of people wearing animal parts, but nothing so organized as you're suggesting. It sounds like they were more concerned about the church than the bandits, and if that's the case, they could be trouble."

"Do you know anything else about them," prodded Ylva.

Edgar shook his head. "No. They seem to be a relatively new threat."

"So, what do you want us to do about it?" Hector asked.

"For now, nothing," Edgar said, and Brian felt his heart sink. "Your responsibility is to the Adventurer's Guild, and nothing more. I'll look through my recent archives to see if I can find anything related to this group, and I'll tell you when I do, but I don't want you running off after them in the meantime."

"But—" Ylva began.

"Do not challenge me," menaced Edgar. He didn't raise his voice, but still managed to quiet the room. "Your desire to pursue this thread is admirable, and displays the qualities of a true Guild member. I'm willing to help you in this and share what I find out, but if you defy me I won't be so kind."

"We understand." Hector gave a quick bow of his head. "Thank you for listening to us, and offering to help."

"Yes, yes," dismissed Edgar. "Now, if you don't mind, I suddenly have quite a bit of research to do." He waved them off and returned to his writing.

"See you later, Edgar," Ylva said. The old man responded not.

With that, the party departed. Brian had been hoping for more, honestly. Edgar always seemed, for lack of a better word, omniscient. That he didn't know something was both startling and oddly relaxing. It made him seem more human, and the Guild itself much less intimidating. Edgar's admission of ignorance, and his offer to help, set Brian's mind at ease more than any amount of settling in could. The Adventurers may have been a bunch of extraordinary people, sure, but they weren't supernatural.

He returned to the boys' room and plopped down on his bed in the first time in what felt like forever. He would rest well that night, safe in the closest thing he had to a home. Although dreams of minotaurs plagued his slumber, he could at least be secure in the knowledge that his friends would not be alone in their newfound fight.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: We all need to give a fucking _massive_ round of applause to Tiffany. When Brian went down right next to the Stag's flaming sphere, he would've taken damage on his next turn, and instantly failed two death saving throws. Even if he succeeded on the third, the Stag could've just hit him with it, and Brian would be dead. **

**Tiffany didn't have her own potion, so she had to use Brian's. It took an investigation check to find his potion, which would've taken her entire turn, except that she rolled a Natural 20. I talked to a friend of mine, and we agreed that a 20 meant she could find the potion without using her whole turn. Without this critical success, she wouldn't have been able to give Brian his potion in time, and it's possible both him an Ylva would've died. The most reluctant adventurer saves the day. There's something beautiful about that.**

 **For once, an encounter ended up exactly as hard as I wanted it to be. This was meant to be difficult, to drive home just how much of a threat this group of animal-wearing freaks posses. I've mentioned before how these fights are just as exciting for me as they are for you, because I don't know what's going to happen. Never have I been more stressed out while writing, nor more elated when everyone got out alive.**

 **I've been hesitant so far to explicitly say the names of certain spells. However, we all should know what Inflict Wounds looks like at this point, and Bane is kind of hard to describe without actually saying it. I feel as though Brian should be able to recolonize spells both from his experience with the game, and through his time as an adventurer. I hope specifying them in the text wasn't immersion breaking.**

 **Don't forget to leave a review.**


	22. Equivalent Exchange

Brian sat in the boy's room the next day. As he normally found himself, he was alone. Hector had dove into his books yet again, doubtless attempting learn even more spells, or uncover the secrets of the world, or something. Watching his much older friend toil away in his studies made Brian glad he'd chosen a cleric for his role in the world. He didn't have to worry about all of the incessant research when all of his powers were given to him by an almighty being. That prospect in itself was unsettling if he took too much time to think about it, so he usually didn't.

Calvin, on the other hand, had come up with a great idea. He went into town looking for an odd job, something in day labor or maybe security, a task where his size and strength came in handy. Brian thought this was absolutely brilliant. Not only did it give Calvin a chance to get out and experience Trostenwald in a more intimate way, it also made him a few extra coins. Brian probably would have done something similar, if he hadn't already other plans.

So, those situations were what found him sitting alone in their shared room, starring blankly at the wall at nothing in particular. He _did_ have something he wanted to accomplish that day, but making himself do it was another matter entirely. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else, it was the sensation of being lost. To not know where he was, or where he headed, was a nightmare for him, one which was unfortunately recurring through his time in Exandria. Of course, he was also well aware that this phobia contributed to his absolutely awful sense of direction, but that didn't help him much in solving it.

He looked at the wall for what felt like maybe ten minutes more before he finally got fed up with just sitting around. He stood and exited the room, bound for the armory. When he descended the exterior stairs and walked in through the entrance door, he found it much busier than normal. Therdin was there, of course, but there were also others. An elven woman spoke with a somewhat shorter human man about the merits of a shortbow. Two dwarves compared styles of greathelm. A human, halfling, and that pale yellow tiefling woman Brian had seen weeks prior stood in a semi-circle having a jovial conversation.

There was usually no one in the armory at all, so to see it so full intimidated Brian. Did he really belong in there amongst so many other warriors? Did he, with his blessed powers and skills given by the Gift of Knowledge, deserve to share this room of war with people who had dedicated their entire lives to fighting? These were philosophical questions he knew needed answering, but not then. In the immediate term, the most important thing was to get what he wanted and be on his way. To that end, he was glad no one occupied Therdin. He approached the tall ginger-haired elf, trying his best to hide his discomfort.

"Therdin!" Brian called out just before entering comfortable conversation distance. The elf looked up from the arrow he'd been messing with to regard Brian with a warm smile.

"Brian, hello! Good to see you," he said.

"Good to see you, too," returned the human.

"I heard your last mission didn't go so well. I'm glad to see you all made it out okay."

"I think we're all glad to be alive. Did Edgar tell you what happened?"

"He said you fought some people wearing animal heads, and that they were very strong."

"Yeah, that's the gist of it."

"Well, if you need anything to help out with them, don't hesitate to ask."

"Oh, I do need something, actually," Brian said. "Sorry, I got caught up in talking and forgot why I came down here."

"That's alright," Therdin said. "What's can I do for you?"

Brian hesitated for a few seconds. There was still time to go back, to be lazy and not face the outside world nor take the risk of getting lost. But, he'd already come this far. No need to be a coward now.

"Do you have a map? Of Trostenwald?" He added quickly. "I haven't gone into town alone since I got here because I have no idea where I'm going, and it's hard to remember because everything looks the same."

Therdin nodded. "It can be hard to get around. I do have maps for sale. Follow me."

The elf walked past Brian, back the way he came. Brian fell in behind him, following along quietly. He tried to avoid looking around. His discomfort at standing among so many other native denizens of Exandria accentuated just how isolated he had been. The only times he went out were with one or more of his friends. That gave him a safety net to fall back on. Here, even though he somewhat trusted Therdin, he didn't have that assurance. Maybe this land would feel more like a home if he went out of his way to be a part of it in moments other than when work forced him to.

That theory drove his feet to follow the elven quartermaster all the way to the far wall. Brian, of course, recognized this wall. It was the home for all the adventuring gear. Things like dungeoneering kits, lockpicking sets, camping supplies, etc. When he first arrived, Brian hadn't really been in the state of mind to pay much attention to this area. Now, it made perfect sense to find maps in it.

Therdin took a second to inspect the wall before removing a simple dark lacquered wooden case from its top shelves. He did this not with his hands, but with magic. The case floated down from a spot near the ceiling to land in his open palm.

"Here we go," he said as his hands closed around it. "One Trostenwald town map. The map itself is one gold, and the case is another."

"I have to pay for it?" Brian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Yes," Therdin said, and then sighed. "It's one of the few Guild policies I don't agree with. But, every coin counts. So, even though you're already a member, you still have to pay for gear from the armory."

"Fair enough," Brian said. "I wasn't complaining, just a bit surprised. Here, two gold." He fished out a pair of coins and handed them over.

"Thank you very much. Your map..." Therdin trailed off as the map was exchanged for the gold. "Is there anything else?"

"That's everything. I hope it's not rude of me to cut out immediately, but I have some errands to run," Brian said.

"Hence the map, then." Therdin gave a nod. "Smart. Well, I don't want to keep you."

"Alright. Thanks, Therdin."

"You're welcome."

With that, Brian departed. He waited until he had exited the guild hall and descended to the foot of the hill just outside Trostenwald before he took out the map. It was smaller than he expected, only about a third the size of the case it came in. This was a blessing in disguise, however, as it made the unruly page easier to manage. Having been rolled up for gods knew how long, it didn't take well to being unfolded. When Brian passed through the town boundaries, he ducked right into an alleyway to inspect the map.

Just as he always suspected, the Adventurer's Guild hall sat on a hill in the southeast of the town, not far from the massive Ustaloch lake. This meant the natural route into the town took him down a side street. The main road cut straight through the middle of town, broken up by two large square courtyards, one if the former third and one in the latter. The Hills Ward made up most of the town exterior as it followed the farm lands wrapping around it. Close to the center this gave way to the Market District which surrounded the northern courtyard. The breweries were in the north, with streets built to facilitate them. The rest of town seemed to be largely residential with scattered businesses throughout.

Brian remembered his destination had been pretty close to the courtyard near Isalda's house. Judging by the map, that must've been the southern one. From there, he could just follow his ears. He made way in that direction, the map as a guide.

He expected to be afraid of walking alone through some strange town, but he didn't. First of all, it wasn't strange. Sure, he knew next to nothing about the place, but it was still familiar. It wasn't home, not by a long shot, but it felt at least a bit familiar.

Second, he flat out wasn't afraid. Maybe it was the light of Bahamut at his side, or the recent combat he'd been a part of, but he felt no threat at all while walking down the streets. Even without his weapons, Brian felt as safe as he possibly could given the situation. He walked on with his head held high, not a care in the world except for where he had to go. Strange, how he'd been so afraid of traveling alone but, now that he actually got around to doing so, it wasn't a big deal in the slightest.

Roughly forty minutes of walking took him to his destination. Finding it became easy once he was close enough. Once there, he walked through the doors to find a dwarven man, bald and with a grey beard flecked in black, his usually braided mustaches left unkempt. He put the final pound on what looked like the glowing edge of an axe head before setting it on the anvil.

"Lundgrum!" Brian called out. At the sound of his name, the dwarf looked toward him,

"Greetings there, lad. Welcome to _Lundgrum's Ironworks_." He met Brian halfway. "Ah, you're Ylva's friend, right?"

"I am," Brian confirmed with a nod.

"Well, what can I do for ye, then?"

"I was wondering if you had any crossbow bolts," Brian asked.

"I'm not much of a fletcher, per say, but I do have some bolts on hand." Lundgrum gestured for Brian to follow and he did, "So, how's life in the Guild?"

"It's... alright," Brian said slowly.

"Doesn't sound alright," Lundgrum called him out immediately.

"Well, if I'm being honest, the last mission didn't go so well. We're all okay, but it was hard." Brian didn't know why he was even bothering to say all of this. Lundgrum probably couldn't give two shits about him, a random customer. But, the dwarf had asked, so Brian answered.

The smith hummed in recognition. "I was a soldier in a past life, so I know all about difficult missions." Lundgrum opened the door to the back room behind the forge. "Not everything will go your way, but you have to take heart and keep moving forward."

"I know that," Brian responded immediately. "It's just hard."

"You just need some time to recover." Lundgrum said.

The dwarf entered the room, giving Brian a full view of it. The walls looked a bit different than he remembered. They still were lined with weapons and armor, but a gorgeous black kite shield dominated the right side, surrounded by arming swords which easily could pair with it. The smith had obviously been busy. If Brian hadn't come here for a purpose, he'd be tempted to shop around a bit.

"So," Lundgrum stopped next to a urn right of the door. "Are you looking for a full quiver, a half, or something else?"

"Um..." Brian hadn't been expecting that question. Dungeon Masters didn't tend to ask such things. "Lets go with a full quiver."

"Alright, that's twenty bolts for 1 gold each," Lundgrum said. "Will you be needing a quiver as well?"

"No, that's alright."

Lundgrum grinned. "Thought so. Give me a second to count them all out."

While the shorter man set about collecting the prize, Brian dug a gold from his pouch. He expected these things to be a bit more, but he'd never bring that up. When Lundgrum finished, Brian exchanged his money for a bundle of bolts.

"Thank ye very much," Lundgrum said. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thank you, Lundgrum." Brian did his best to sound cheery.

"Of course, lad. Don't be a stranger now."

"I won't." Brian turned to leave.

"And, hey," Lundgrum called after him. Brian turned back around. "Stay strong out there. This world can be cruel, but you have to find strength in yourself, and in your friends. That's a holy symbol around your neck, right? Maybe try asking your god for guidance."

"I might do that. Thanks for the advice."

"Anytime, lad, anytime."

Brian left the store, bolts clutched in his left hand, Lundgrum's words echoing in his ears. What the dwarf said made a lot of sense. He'd never been particularly religious back on Earth. Talking to Bahamut never really appealed to him. The Platinum Dragon gave him power, but he'd never done anything in return, or even acknowledged the big man's presence outside of smiting bad guys. Maybe there was some merit to prayer. It wouldn't hurt to try.

After a few minutes of walking, it became apparent that he should have taken the quiver offered to him. To walk down the street looking like an ordinary citizen, but carrying a bunch of deadly crossbow bolts, was the height of awkwardness. Brian was sure every eye leered at him as he passed.

In that way, then, he was thankful for the relatively close proximity of his next destination. He came upon a little shop between two bigger buildings. Inside, it smelled like spicy mold, though not quite as unpleasant as he remembered. The same young elven girl stood behind the counter at the far end from the entrance.

"Welcome to _Ashla's Assorted Alchemical_! I'm Leithlee," she said.

"Hi," Brian returned as he approached the desk. "I won't take up too much of your time, just wondering if you have any potions of healing?"

"Ah, we just restocked but, unfortunately, that isn't saying much." Leithlee dipped behind the counter for a second. When she popped back up, she had two vials in her left hand, while the right carried a proper small bottle. All sloshed with a thick red liquid. "These two are just regular potions, and this one is a greater."

Brian considered them for a moment. "I think I would get more mileage out of the two regular."

"I agree," Leithlee said. She put the greater potion back. "For both of these, it's 100 gold."

"That's more or less what I expected to pay." Brian pieced out a hundred coins and then pocketed the vials. For once, he was thankful for his experience as an accountant. It made him a very fast counter. "Alright, that's all I needed," he said.

"Okay, thanks for stopping by!"

Leithlee was way cuter than Brian remembered. With that thought in mind, he left the building.

When he rejoined the streets outside, his path took him back to the Adventurer's Guild hall. Actually accomplishing what he'd set out to do, and without anyone's help, felt good. Much moreso than he ever could have expected, really. While he didn't exactly have a spring in his step, he returned to the hall with his head held high.

Once back, he went straight to the end of the hall where his team's two rooms were located. He stopped not at the boys' door, however, but the girls'. There, he hesitated. Brian stood within knocking distance, but he did not. This reluctance went in a flash. He'd already come this far. It would be an insult to his efforts previously to give up now. He raised his fist to place three short raps on the door.

"It's me," he called through it.

"Come in," returned the voice of Tiffany.

A deep breath, and Brian opened the door. There within he found what he'd been hoping to, Tiffany alone. She lounged on her bed, reading a book. Not, Brian noticed, the adventuring guide she'd shown him a little bit ago. This one was mustard colored and had no design on the cover. When her company entered, she put it down next to the pillow and stood.

"Hi, Brian," she said to him.

"Hi," he returned. They met in the middle of the room. A heartbeat passed, and he thrust the bolts to her at arm's length. "I wanted to give these to you," he said.

Tiffany looked from him, to the bolts, and back again. "Um... Thanks, but, why?"

"For having my back in that last fight." It sounded so simple when he said it out loud.

"Oh, that? It's nothing." Tiffany tried to deflect.

"It's not nothing." Brian wasn't having it. "You've brought me back twice now. And, Ylva would've died, too, if you hadn't saved me back there. That's not to mention all the clutch kills you've had. You're our biggest damage dealer and, frankly, a better healer than I am. None of us would be here without you. _I_ wouldn't be here. So, I wanted to say _thank_ _you_."

Tiffany looked at him for a long time. Brian wasn't sure how many seconds eked on by, but it was certainly enough to make him fear she would reject his gift. Had he gone to far? Did he misread the situation? Was this completely inappropriate and damaging to their already fragile relationship? All of these terrible thoughts and many more swirled through his mind. He had just started to lower his hand when Tiffany spoke up.

"Okay," she finally said. The blonde reached out and took the bolts.

"There's also..." Brian fished out the health potions. Tiffany inspected them for a second before taking them in her other hand.

"Thank you, Brian. I don't think you need to thank me, but I appreciate it," Tiffany said. She laid the things on her bed.

"I disagree." Brian shook his head. "I owe you my life two times over."

"You don't owe me anything," denied Tiffany. "I know it probably sounds so tired, at this point, but what Ylva said during our first job really resonated with me. We survive together. I don't know what any of this shit is, none of us do. The only thing I do know, is that this team is all I have in this world. I won't let it fall apart."

Her determination took him by surprise, yet Brian couldn't help but smile. Of everyone, Tiffany had put the most work into becoming a true adventurer. In a way, that made her the best amongst them. Really, Brian shouldn't have been so shocked to see her this dedicated. It made perfect sense.

"That sounds good to me. Why don't we both make sure everyone makes it out of this alive?" He said.

"That's what I plan on doing," confirmed Tiffany. "Thank you for these things, especially the bolts. I was running out."

"I figured you might be," Brian said. "Let me know if you ever want to hold another study session."

"I will."

Silence enfolded them. Brian could already feel awkwardness begin to close its grimy fist. He refused to let something like that ruin what was an otherwise nice moment. He had to bail.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll be seeing you," he said.

"Oh, I'm sure Ylva or Hector will think of something to drag us in to," she joked.

Brian chuckled. "Yeah, probably. Later, Tiffany."

He gave her a quick wave, and left out the door. His heart pounded as he returned to the boys' room. It lay empty, which suited him perfectly. That went about as well as he could've possibly imagined. Tiffany accepted his gift, and they even had a little heart-to-heart, however brief. Maybe, just maybe, they were getting to a point where he could call them friends. Maybe—most likely, honestly—he was overthinking things. Tiffany certainly didn't seem to hate him, or even dislike him. Maybe he was projecting. Whatever the truth was, he felt they'd made some progress as teammates if nothing else. _That_ was a result he could be proud of.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've had to completely guess about Trostenwald's layout, as there are no maps available, not even fan-made ones. Matt's town descriptions are always pretty light, which doesn't really matter in-game, but it makes writing abot them difficult. That, and I'm no city planner. I'm sure what I came up with is completely wrong.**

 **Don't forget to leave a review.**


	23. Talk it Out

Three days passed. Three monotonous, boring days spent in Trostenwald. It was quite strange, to have such a long time off instead of the near constant action they had faced so far. Brian literally didn't know what to do with himself, or what was the best course of action. How was he supposed to spend is time? It was a constant struggle, and the reason he never wanted to live in a low-tech fantasy world like Exandria or Middle-Earth. He would've much preferred a future world like Coruscant.

He understood the irony of this. Indeed, it hit him like a truck. For all the time he spent complaining about what strange lot in life he'd drawn, and hating ever moment of combat, he found himself restless without it. Sure, fighting was awful, and he despised killing, but what was he supposed to do otherwise? Was this why professional soldiers kept going back to war, even though they couldn't stand it?

Brian let this boredom stand for exactly one of the three days before he did something about it. He'd never gone completely stir crazy before, and didn't feel like trying it. So, taking a page from Calvin's playbook, he went out to find a job in town. He eventually found is big barbarian friend, who turned him on to what he had been doing. Calvin had found temporary day laborer work in the northwest portion of town unloading sacks of grain and produce for a local granary. They were always looking for extra hands. So, that was how Brian found himself working his first ever physical labor job.

Honestly, it wasn't as bad as he might have expected. He had never been particularly strong or fit, though his lithe build would lead others to expect otherwise. However, the sacks succumbed easily to his might. It was still tiring work, but not nearly to the extent it might have been. All this time traveling and fighting probably paid off in the form on increased strength and endurance, even with just a few weeks of effort. Brian had never needed to think about it before then.

By the dawn of the fourth day, it was Edgar to the rescue. Shortly after the sun rose, he summoned Brian and the rest of his party to his personal chambers. Brian felt a mix of anxiety and fear as he walked along with his friends down the corridor to Edgar's quarters. He probably had another job for them.

Much as Brian might have yearned for it in his downtime, now that he was about to be sent out again, he dreaded it. No matter how much he longed for something to do when there was nothing, he still was afraid to be an adventurer, at his core. The danger was thrilling, sure, but also terrible. He would have much rather stayed in town hauling grain. At least that came with little to no danger of stabbing.

All of these thoughts meant nothing, as Hector knocked on the door.

"Enter," Edgar called from the other side. Hector did as told, and the five of them shuffled in. "Ah, there you are." As always, Edgar sat at his writing desk.

"You wanted to see us, Edgar?" Hector returned.

"Yes, I did." The aged wizard pulled a missive from his right sleeve. "I don't have a job for you today, but instead, a lead." He handed the page to Hector, who looked over it.

"What is this?" Ylva said, reading around her friend's shoulder.

"A voucher," Edgar answered simply. "I have an acquaintance in Alfield who just told me about a very interesting prisoner their Crownsguard just acquired, a man with a black bear's head sewn to his scalp."

A collective gasp ran through the party. Brian and Calvin gathered around Hector to read the piece of paper he held. Even Tiffany peeked around the side at it. It appeared to be an official document of some sort, wrapped up in jargon Brian didn't have the patience to unwind.

"For real?" Calvin asked.

"For... real." Using the slang seemed to cause Edgar physical discomfort. "There's no contract on the man, currently, but you are free to go investigate him, if you want to. That voucher should help you. Show it to the guards of the Salt Trench Jail, and they'll let you talk to him."

"Why would you help us? Why go out on a limb?" Tiffany asked immediately, and Brian wished she hadn't. Though, it was a valid question.

"I offered to help you, didn't I?" Edgar said. "I don't know what this group of people wants, and I hate to not know things. If they're running around infesting basements, razing old churches, and attacking travelers like this individual was, then they're a threat. The Adventurer's Guild eliminates threats."

"We thank you for the information, Edgar," Ylva said before Tiffany could respond. Not that the blonde girl seemed overly eager to do so. "We'll get moving right away."

"See to it," was all Edgar said.

He returned to his studies, which the party took as their cue to leave. They returned to their rooms, changed into their armor, gathered their gear, and—with a quick request of directions from Therdin—were on the way to Alfield.

The trading town of Alfield was about a three day journey from Trostenwald at a steady pace. The first day went off without a hitch. Ylva and Hector, as always, lead the way, while Brian took up the back. In this formation, they made excellent progress. Conversation flowed occasionally between them, but mostly they were focused on the road.

This suited Brian just fine. He feared that talking might reveal the strain in his voice from having to walk so long. When the trips were just to places outside Trostenwald, the walking hadn't bothered him. Now, with the prospect of two more days of such labor ahead, he shuttered to think what state he would be in upon reaching Alfield. If their quests were going to start taking them along further distances, they'd need to invest in a cart and wagon, just like the Mighty Nein.

Making camp on the first day, it was Tiffany to the rescue. She, after some mutual complaints about the walking, mentioned that it shouldn't be a problem. According to Taryon's book, whatever strange force healed adventurer's, soldiers, monsters, and the like after a good night's rest also relieved the pain from sore feet after a day of walking. After all, the aching was technically an injury.

Though Brian had walked whole days before, and come out of them with feet about ready to fall off, he'd never noticed how that pain went away completely the following morning. He guessed, without pain in his feet, there was no real reason to think about it. Out of foot, out of mind.

The second day began after a full night's rest. What Tiffany said proved true. The party was fresh and pain free, ready to start their next leg. It was cloudy, so not quite as hot as the day before. The cover was light and grey, not the darkness which may have betrayed the coming of rain. Brian hoped to Bahamut it stayed that way. The only thing that could make this travel worse was a downpour.

Unlike the day before, this one was full of conversation. Maybe it had been jitters holding them back, or maybe they were just focusing on the mission. No matter the reason, this second day proved much more jovial and entertaining.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Calvin had said at one point.

"I will die on this hill," asserted Tiffany. She walked a few steps behind him, having this conversation with his back.

"Is it a girl thing?" Calvin asked, only half serious.

"No, it's a fact, plain and simple," Tiffany said.

"Alright, look," Calvin began. "I understand having a preference, and that's fine, to a point. I don't care who you are, you can't say McDonald's fries are better than Wendy's. It's just not true."

"They have more substance to them," argued the blonde. "And, they actually taste like potato, unlike McDonald's, which are just salt and grease."

"I know! That's what makes them so great." Calvin looked back long enough to see Tiffany roll her eyes. "Hey, when I'm eating a French fry, the last thing I want is to be reminded that it used to be healthy."

"But, potatoes are a superfood. You can survive on nothing but potatoes. You can't do that with French fries," Tiffany said.

Calvin shook his head. "Changing the subject because you know you lost? Shame. Who's trying to live on just fries?"

Tiffany took a breath as if to say something, but didn't. Brian, of course, had no idea what words had been about to pass her lips, but that was probably a good thing. Tiffany may not have talked much in general, but she rarely refrained from speaking her mind when she did. That she showed restraint there was not a good sign.

A silence carried through the party for about ten or so minutes. Brian passed that time with a smile on his face. A glance at Ylva revealed she mirrored his expression. He was glad his friends were getting along. It may have been an unfounded fear, at this point, but these people still barely knew each other. Dissension among the ranks could be devastating to their teamwork, which would mean more danger for everyone. It relieved Brian to no end that the opposite was true. Everyone got along.

"I wonder if we'll get to meet Bryce?" Hector asked eventually.

"I'm not sure," Ylva answered. "That's a good point, though. We still haven't figured out _when_ we are."

"I'm pretty sure we're post-Thordak," offered Calvin. "One of the guys I worked with the other day mentioned how rare it is to see dragonborn. They wouldn't be rare if Draconia was still around."

"Okay, that narrows it down," Ylva said, "But we still don't have a concrete answer."

"I can think of one way to find out," Brian offered. He waited until the others were paying attention before continuing. "We could go to the _Lavish Chateau_ and see if we can find Jester. We can guess when we are depending on how old she looks, or if she's even there."

"Oh, I see. You just wanna go see Marion," Ylva said with sly, prodding tone.

"What? No, that's not what I meant," Brian argued.

"Don't lie, you little rascal, you." Ylva fell back to actually prod him.

"Hey! Ylva, stop. I'm being serious." Brian jerked his arm away and took a small step out of her grasp.

Ylva did not stop. "You never know, she might even take a liking to you."

"I doubt it."

"Who's Marion?" Tiffany asked.

"The best lay ever!" Calvin sang, in what Brian assumed was an accidental Jester impression. After all, no Critter he knew could quote Jester without at least a little bit of her accent. It just tended to happen.

"What?" Tiffany raised an eyebrow at him.

"The Ruby of the Sea," Ylva explained. "She's a whore."

"They have those, here?" Tiffany seemed equal parts surprised and aghast.

"Even better, they're _legal_ ," Calvin said.

"That's awful," Tiffany said. "Gross."

"Different world, Tiff," Ylva shrugged. "I don't see the problem with it, myself. If both parties consent, the price is fair, and no one gets hurt, then what's the big deal?"

"It's indecent, is the big deal," said Tiffany.

"Yes, it is. That's the whole point," countered Calvin.

Tiffany gave a frustrated huff and rolled her eyes, which signaled the end of the conversation.

"You know, we could just ask," Hector said after it had been quiet for a few seconds. "Bring it up in conversation, and then say something like 'how long ago even was that? It feels like forever.' That way we're being ironic, but we still get the answer we want."

"That could work," agreed Ylva.

"Sure you're not a bard?" Calvin joked.

"No, but my husband's current character is a bard," Hector said. "I learned by watching him."

The rest of the day, and the ensuing night, passed on with nary an issue, same with the following. Early in the fourth day, the party arrived in Alfield. It was a town without walls, smaller than Trostenwald and more free in design. Where their homebase was made of winding streets and narrow alleyways, Alfield's was all wide roads and open space. The cobble-paved passages were easily wide enough to fit three carts abreast, and the tallest building was only two stories. Much less complex, the simply spacious design made sense for a trading hub.

This early in the morning, the town naturally bustled with activity. The population here seemed to skew more human than the relatively diverse Trostenwald, but not by much. A plethora of people traveled to and fro along various routes. There were many traders transporting and distributing goods, along with the workers who helped them do so. Even so, the expansive nature of the town meant traffic flowed without impediment.

After a few minutes of walking, Hector flagged down a guard. Brian did a quick check of this individual, but he was a human. So, not Bryce, unfortunately.

"Excuse me, sir," Hector said. "We're looking for the Salt Trench Jail. Can you point us in the right direction?"

The guard gave him a wary look. "What business do you have at the jail?"

"We wish to speak with a prisoner," Hector said.

"Yes, I assumed as much. Most people don't go there for fun," mocked the guard. "What business do you have?"

"Here, we have this. It might explain better than we can." Ylva handed him Edgar's note. The guard snatched it and looked over the words.

"Ah, Guild business," he commented after a moment. "Why didn't you just say so? Walk all the way to the northeast, past the town's boundaries. You'll see a narrow path that winds downhill. Take it to the end until you come to a building of old wood and stone. That's the Salt Trench Jail."

"Okay. Thank you, sir," Hector said.

"Citizen." The guard nodded, and the two went their separate ways, moving in opposite directions.

After a quick discussion, the party decided to go right there, a decision Ylva and Calvin did not agree with. They both, understandably, were excited over the prospect of a new town from the show they loved so much. It took Brian and Hector to remind them that they were not there to sightsee. They had a job with potential Empire-wide importance. There would be time to explore Alfield later. Tiffany, with no previous attachment to it, sided with the logical pair. So, the party made their way out of town and to the Salt Trench Jail.

Just as the guard said, about ten minutes of walking off trail they found a little path which stretched on down a surprisingly steep hill. At the bottom was a structure that looked strikingly unlike a prison. Indeed, it barely qualified for a house. One storey and of an unimpressive size, Brian seriously doubted if they had the right place or not. The only things that gave it away were the bars in the windows on either side of the front door. There wasn't even a guard standing outside.

"Should we just... bust in?" Calvin asked as they approached.

"That sounds like a really bad idea," Tiffany said.

"Agreed," nodded Ylva. "Let's just knock and see what happens."

The party gathered around her as she followed her own directive. A moment's hesitation, and a trio of sharp raps assaulted the door. Ylva took a step back. All five sets of eyes peered expectantly at the door. Brian's looked with uncertainty and fear. The others seemed cautious, while Calvin let a bit of excitement mix in. A few seconds of this, and the door creaked open. Out stepped three members of the Crownsguard, all of them armed and helmeted.

"State your business," the one in the middle demanded.

"We're with the Adventurer's Guild," Ylva said, "here to see a prisoner." She handed him the note from Edgar. The guard took it with a suspicious side-eye for her. He poured over its contents.

"Very well." He handed back the note, and then gestured toward the other two guards. They went back inside. "I'll take you to him."

At the lead of this man, who was obviously the ranking officer, the party shuffled into the wood and stone building. It was almost completely empty inside, with only a desk to the left and a little kitchen against the far right wall. There were no cells at all, and no one else inside that they hadn't already seen. Brian had just enough time to start wondering about this before their escort took them to a door against the left wall, one which another guard was already opening with a heavy key. This man pushed the door open for them, and they filed down a staircase. The way was cramped and dingy, lit by sporadic torches hanging on the walls, which Brian had to be careful to avoid rubbing against for fear of catching on fire.

"What did this guy do, anyway?" Calvin asked.

"Found him just north of town spewing some nonsense about his Goddess at travelers passing by. Worship of unsanctioned gods is forbidden, so we took him in, but we might not have jailed him if not for the grizzly display on his head," explained the guard.

"A black bear, right?" Ylva asked.

"Yeah, fuckin' weird. We tried to take it off during the arrest, and he went berserk. Pulled a knife out from nowhere and tried to fight us, so we subdued him and brought him here. Won't let anyone get near the thing, either. We've had a few doctors come in and try to cut it off, but he always attacks them, so we've let him keep it."

"If he's so dangerous, then why keep him around?" Calvin asked. "Why not transfer him to a bigger city?"

"It's _because_ he's so dangerous," the guard said as they all cleared the bottom step. "We already have him detained here. With someone so unpredictable, sometimes it's better to just keep them in one place."

"That makes sense," Hector said.

The actual jail part of the prison had eight cells, four on each side of a narrow walkway. The guard led them all the way to the end. In the last cell on the left sat a man, bare in the chest save for a leather sash from left shoulder to right hip, tattered and faded trousers, heavy boots, and smelling as though he hadn't bathed in months. The black bear's decapitated head had been sewed to his cranium. The long dried and shriveled tongue lolled out of the open mouth in what was likely supposed to be a growl, but really just looked like a desperate scream.

"He's all yours," the guard said, and began to walk away.

"You're sure you want to leave us with him?" Calvin asked.

"Sure. Ask your questions but leave him untouched, or you'll end up in the rest of these cells." With that, the guard ascended the stairs.

Brian felt the air immediately go stale. He'd never interrogated someone before. How should he proceed? Was this even an interrogation? They had never actually established what they were after before going to the jail. Now that they were there, the lack of preparation hit him like a ton of bricks. Thankfully, this would not be a problem for long, as the prisoner spoke up first.

"You sure are a colorful bunch." He had a slithery way of speaking, a cadence that drew out the middles of some words.

"My friends and I are with the Adventurer's Guild," Ylva said. "We've come to ask you some questions."

"The Guild, you say? Oh, well color me humbled, then." Sarcasm laced his voice.

"What's your name?" Hector began the questioning.

"Berran, twenty-nine years old from Zadash," the prisoner said. "You would've already known that if you'd taken the time to ask the guards. Do you always just rush into uncertain situations?"

"Sorta, yeah" Calvin shrugged.

"I should expect no less from Adventurer's Guild brutes."

"You know, insulting us isn't a good way to get on our good side," Tiffany said, arms crossed.

"And what makes you think I want to get on the good side of urban dogs like yourselves?" Berran almost spat the insult.

"Says the guy wearing a bear on his head," scoffed Calvin.

"My spirit bond is more than simple adornment," Berran said.

"Spirit bond? What's that?" Ylva jumped on the term, and Brian was glad she did. This was the first bit of potential information they had ever received about this strange group of people. They couldn't let it go to waste.

"I'll tell you nothing," denied Berran. "Savages like you don't deserve to know."

"We're just trying to understand you better," Ylva said. "We don't mean any harm, and we aren't here to demean you."

"Yes, I sensed that. You don't seem quite so taken aback at my appearance as some others," observed Berran.

"Yeah, well, we're used to it. Seen you before," Calvin said. Berran gave him a confused look, one which made him appear even more ridiculous than he already did.

"We've run into your people, he means," Hector clarified. "It's why we were chosen to come here and speak with you."

"And which ones of _my people_ do you claim to have come across?" Berran was immediately suspicious.

"There was a guy dressed up like a rat living under someone's house in Trostenwald."

"Ah, so someone finally found him." Berran spoke as if this were some massive revelation.

"You know who we're talking about? Who was he?" Again, Ylva latched onto any shred of information she could find.

"An old fool, nothing more."

"Can you at least tell us his name?" Hector prodded.

"Markus Belderfield, though I'm not sure why you want the name of a dead man. It's not like he can tell you anything anymore." Berran's dismissive tone bothered Brian.

"What was he doing down there?" Hector asked.

"Serving the Goddess, obviously."

"And who's your Goddess?"

"Ah, the first real question." Berran seemed to finally care, at least a little bit, about the conversation. "The guards asked me the same thing. You'll all find out, soon enough. Until then, you don't need to know."

""Try us," Calvin said. "You never know."

"I know more than you think," Berran said. Then, he slowly extended a finger to Brian. "You, there. You're a man of faith, yes?"

Brian was completely shattered by being referred to directly. His mouth gaped a few times, like a fish trying to breath on land. He finally managed to choke out a response. "How did you know?"

"The stink of divinity oozes off you, disgusting and self-important. I know, because it's something I smell on myself every day. We're not too different, you and I." Berran said, a comparison that made Brian's skin crawl.

"We already know you're on a holy mission," Hector said. "We fought a group of you who were going to attack some bandits we had just hit."

"And yet, you're still here. Pity." Berran allowed himself a slimy smile. "I take that to mean my comrades are dead. So, did you feel Her power? Did you stare in awe at the beauty of Her might?"

"They stared in awe at the end of my club," Calvin said, hefting his weapon up onto his right shoulder for emphasis.

"I'm sure they were just wondering how you swing it without falling through the floor," Berran countered.

"What!?" Calvin took a step toward the cell. Ylva put an arm in his path. He stopped short. She gave him a simple shake of her head. He huffed through his nose, but relented.

Berran chuckled. "And they call _me_ violent and unreasonable."

"Throwing around insults won't get us anywhere," Ylva said with glances for both of them. She put her arm down.

"Then I suggest you get to questioning," Berran said.

"Fine. Who are you people? What do you want?" Ylva asked.

"If you met us before, then you already know who we are and what we want. Why should I tell you what you already know?"

"Give us a name. What do you call yourselves?"

"Oh, it's far too early for that, my dear," said Berran. "I'm sure you'll find out at the same time as everyone else. Of course, by then, it will be too late."

"Listen up, you fugly bitch." Before anyone could stop him, Calvin approached the cell. "We did not just walk three goddamned days for you to tell use we already know what we know, or whatever the shit you're trying to say. So give us a name, or no cell on Earth will protect you from me!"

Berran just sighed. "I suppose you _do_ want something to bring back to your masters. So, you tell them this." He got to his feet and stood before the bars, eyes even with Calvin's. " _You_ are Exandria's doom through devastation. You will raze the very world that gives you life. Only when your infestation is cleansed, will all life be safe. _We_ are the ones who will cleanse you. _We_ are your salvation through destruction."

Berran stood there looking Calvin in the eyes. He let his word hang in the air just long enough for them to sink in throughout the five people on the other side of the bars. Without another sound, he resumed his sitting position back in the corner.

"And just who are you?" Ylva asked.

"You'll get nothing else out of me. You can learn with the rest of them, when the Goddess burns you with her holy embrace."

As if to emphasize his riddance of the conversation, Berran turned his back to them so he starred at the wall, essentially putting himself in the corner like a poorly behaved child.

"That's it? That's all you want to say? I'm not done with you, bitch, not yet!" Calvin yelled through the bars.

"Calvin, come on, he's a lost cause." Ylva tried to reason with her big friend.

"Naw, this fucker's friends almost killed my friends. I ain't leaving until I get some answers!"

"Leave it alone, Cal. We did everything we could."

"Not everything. Let's see how much he likes me when—"

"Calvin," Tiffany said. "Please. Let's just go."

It may have been the soft pleading in her voice. It may have been the way she placed a hand on his forearm. It may have been the tremble in her eyes. Whatever the cause, Calvin visibly relaxed. His muscles went slack, face fell into an expression of mild shock. He peered at all of his companions in turn, and then looked away.

"Sorry, I... sorry."

"It's alright," Tiffany said. "Let's just get out of here."

And with that, they left, none the wiser and all the more frustrated.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Several rolls during the interrogation. Hector rolled a seventeen when asking Berran's name, and so got an answer. Ylva had a failure with a nine when asking about his spirit bond, and then a 17 for the question about the madman under Isalda's house, their very first enemy. The last success of the night was Hector for 16 when asking the name of the madman. The rest were all failures. Of particular note was Calvin's intimidation check when he started getting mad. He rolled a five, which is the lowest he can without a natural 1. All of this means the party got some little bits of information, but nothing useful.**

 **Please remember to leave a review. What did you think of the party's first real social encounter with an enemy? I always love to hear from my readers.**


	24. Escort Mission

"Well, _that_ was a waste of time," scoffed Calvin followed by a deep drink from his cup.

The five of them had ended up in the Candleglow Inn after their little talk with Berran. They found a table on the bottom floor, ordered a round of cheap ales, and spent a good several minutes drowning their failure. Even Brian, who didn't partake in alcohol much in general, found himself on his second helping.

The party had never suffered a loss like this. They'd never completely and utterly failed to accomplish their goal. Sure, all but one of them had failed many a time at the game Dungeons & Dragons, and even in real life, but to miss at both combined _simultaneously_ was not a sensation any of them were prepared to face. Brian wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it. The only one who seemed particularly well adjusted was Tiffany, which made sense because she wasn't getting hit by a double whammy of bullshit.

"It's not _that_ bad, Cal," Tiffany said. "We got a few names out of it."

"Yeah, we got the names of a prisoner, and a dead guy, because that's _so_ helpful," Calvin said.

"I'm tempted to agree with Calvin," remarked Ylva. "We aren't really any better off than when we started."

"Four days!" Calvin exclaimed with a slam of his mug upon the table. "We wasted four whole days on this! And for what, a few names? What the _fuck_?" He drained the last few drops from his drink and set it down. This was his third.

"Well, when we get back, we can just look up those names. We won't know if we'll find something until we look," suggested Hector.

"Yeah, you do that. I'll go back to hauling grain in the meantime," Calvin said.

"I don't even want to _think_ about the return trip. We just got done walking all that distance. Any more, and I'll be sore my entire life," Tiffany said.

"There's no reason we can't camp out a few days here, take some time to recuperate," Ylva said.

"Yeah, except that if we don't complete contracts within ten days of each other, we can't stay at the guild hall anymore," said Brian. His comment brought a brief silence to the table.

"Well, that's just fucking _great_!" Calvin accentuated the last word by leaning back with a double-handed smack on either side of his empty cup.

"All the more reason to go back sooner, then," Hector said.

"We can ask for a job the moment we get there," added Ylva.

"Yeah, and then do _more_ walking," complained Tiffany. "I haven't been this exhausted since my cheer coach made us run laps every other day."

"I've been thinking about that, actually. The walking, not cheerleading," Brian said, and then quickly amended. "Why don't we invest in a cart and horses, just like the Might Nein? We'd have to be a bit more responsible with them, of course, so no bringing them into danger, but we could at least use them to get from town to town."

"Not a bad idea." Ylva shrugged. "I'm sure there's a coper in Trostenwald."

"A what?" Calvin asked.

"A horse-dealer," answered Tiffany.

"We can certainly look into it." Hector nodded.

"Excuse me," said a voice from behind Brian.

It took every ounce of strength within him to keep from jumping out of his skin. By the confused reactions of the others, none of them saw this individual approach, either. He turned to the source of the voice, and found no one. After a second he glanced down, and it made sense why no one had noticed this fellow. Instead of a human or other tall race, whom he looked upon was a gnome. The little man wore a deep blue captain-style coat, a white shirt beneath, pale yellow breeches, and heavy brown walking shoes.

"Um... sup?" Calvin said with a raised eyebrow.

"What can we do for you, friend?" Hector took a much more amicable approach.

"Are you sellswords, by any chance?" The gnome cut straight to his point.

The entire party hesitated. Glances were exchanged between the five of them, ones that Brian read as suspicious and uncertain. That's what he tried to convey himself, anyway. Just when he felt the moment begin to draw on, Ylva broke the silence.

"What makes you say that?" She asked.

"Well, the swords, for one," the gnome said. "You don't have any sort of uniform, but you're sitting at a table, fully armed and armored. If you're not soldiers, then you're either sellswords or weirdos."

"A fair assessment," Hector nodded. "We're with the Adventurer's Guild, actually."

"Oh, goodie!" The gnome clapped once in pure joy. "My name is Klyppik Pirimpep. I'm the master of a caravan waylaid here in town," he said.

"Waylaid?" Hector took the obvious bait.

"Yes, unfortunately. We were making out way to Trostenwald with seven wagons of various goods, when the mercenaries we hired decided to take the half of the payment they'd already been given, along with a few higher value goods, and run off into the night. We've been stuck here for three days, since."

"Alright," Calvin said, "what does that have to do with us?"

"Well, I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear that you all are making your way back to Trostenwald? If you're going that direction anyway, would you mind escorting a few traders along the way?"

Again, glances went around the table. The exchange was overall shorter this time, however. For his part, Brian certainly didn't like that some stranger had been listening to them talk about their failures. The offer was enticing, though. It would give them something to do, at least.

"Give us a moment to discuss," Ylva said slowly to the gnome.

"Of course." Klyppik bowed his head and stepped back. Not, Brian noticed, far enough to be out of earshot. He rolled his eyes before joining the rest of his companions in leaning over the table.

"I say do it," Calvin said in hushed tones.

"Now, wait a second, Cal," Hector warned. "Let's not just jump into things. That's gotten us in trouble before."

"Are we even allowed to do work outside of the Guild," Tiffany asked a fair question.

"I don't see why not." Ylva crossed her arms. "Our contract with them says nothing about exclusivity, as far as I'm aware. And, it's not like we're breaking any sort of moral guideline, here. We'd just be escorting a convoy. It's the same kind of thing we'd do on a regular job."

"That's a good point," Brian agreed.

"Alright, but let's say we're _not_ allowed. What then?" Proposed Tiffany.

"Edgar doesn't have to know," said Calvin.

"Come on, do you really think he won't find out?" Tiffany continued.

"Okay, then, who says were escorting a caravan? We're just going back to town and just happened to have a little company. Nothing wrong with that, right?" Calvin said.

"I really don't think that'll be necessary." Ylva shook her head. "But, I guess it's an alright excuse."

"Are we all agreed then?" Hector asked of the table. He waited for protests to come in, but none did. He turned to the gnome. "Alright, Klyppik, we're in."

"Wonderful! Simply excellent!" The gnome celebrated. "We leave early tomorrow morning. Are you staying here?"

"We hadn't actually decided on that yet, but I guess we could." Hector looked t his companions for confirmation and received nods.

"I'll send one of my people to fetch you when it's time, then. I look forward to working with you." Klyppik approached the table.

"And us with you," returned Hector. The two of them shook hands, and the deal was brokered.

And that was how the party ended up on their first job outside of the Adventurer's Guild. Despite everything they had determined, Brian was still a bit nervous about it, both because he'd never escorted a caravan before, and because he wasn't sure they should be doing it in the first place. True, Edgar never said anything about exclusivity to the Guild, but it wouldn't be the first time he forgot to tell them something. He hoped they didn't get in trouble for taking the job.

The party got two rooms, Calvin and Ylva covering the costs respectively, and then went right to bed. In the morning, Klyppik did indeed send one of his people to fetch them. Though, to call it morning would've been generous. The sun hadn't even come up yet. The person tasked with collecting them was a female Dragonborn, yellow of scales and with gems inset in the ridges above her eyes. Unlike with most other races, the only things that denoted her as a woman were her size and the pitch of her voice.

This Dragonborn led the party to the outskirts of town where the caravan was already gathered and ready to go. Just as they had been told, the convoy consisted of seven large horse drawn carts covered in white cloth that honestly reminded Brian of American pioneer wagons. Klyppik introduced them to each of the wagon masters, and then they were off.

Brian thought, if nothing else, it would be more entertaining to travel with a large group than just his five friends. Immediately after leaving Alfield, he was proven wrong. Not including Klyppik, there were seven other people along on the journey with them, all of whom drove a wagon. Brian lacked not for people to talk to. The only issue was he knew none of them. He had always found it difficult to meet new people. How did anyone start a conversation with some random person he didn't know? Even though there were plenty of folks around, he found himself completely incapable of speaking with them. That meant he spent most of his time walking with one of his guildmates and keeping quiet.

Even so, the first day went off without a hitch. He expected the trip to slow down with such a large train to weave along the roads, but the opposite was true. The horses, even at a walk, kept a faster pace than most people could. Having to keep up with them made things faster. While he doubted the possibility of cutting a whole day, they might actually make it to Trostenwald late on the third day.

To bed down for the night, they found a mostly flat spot off to one side of the road. There, they circled the wagons and slept in the middle. As the guards, the responsibility of taking watches fell upon the Adventurer's Guild members. So, they used their regular schedule, for which Ylva had the excellent idea of sitting atop the wagons. The only one who didn't do this was Calvin, as he feared his weight would crash through the white canvas.

A thick fog rolled in the next morning. If Brian stood at the back of the wagon train, he couldn't see the front. He paced out the length of the covered wagons to get a rough estimate of their dimensions. Given that information, he had about twenty feet of decent visibility before things rapidly declined. That sounded halfway decent, until put into perspective. It felt like he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

The fog made everyone a bit jumpy, and rightly so. Calvin continually looked around, often leaning forward to get a better look at things he thought to have seen in the distance. Ylva made constant laps of the train, her best attempt at widening her field of view. Hector had long ago sent his bat Noche on a scouting run, and currently was looking through his eyes while Tiffany clung to his arm, leading him along. Brian approached the latter pair.

"How's he doing?" He asked of Tiffany.

"I'm not sure." The blonde shook her head. "He hasn't said anything for the past twenty minutes, or so."

"Well, I guess that's not bad. No news is good news," Brian shrugged.

"It's kinda creepy, if I"m being honest," Tiffany said after a moment. "I mean, he's just standing there, completely unresponsive, like a zombie or something."

"Let's hope he's not a zombie. The last thing we need right now is an outbreak." Brian was only semi-kidding. "Thankfully, I have a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"The zombie outbreak, obviously," Brian said. Tiffany continued to give him a quizzical look. "Come on, everyone has a zombie plan."

"I don't. I've never even heard of something like that."

"Well, you should get one. It could happen at any time, so you need to be ready."

Tiffany hesitated. "I can't tell if you're kidding or not."

"Only a little bit," Brian said. "I do have a zombie plan, but more for the fun of having one. I don't expect to ever use it."

Before this conversation could continue further, Hector came out of his trance. His eyes, which were previously pure white, returned to their normal dark brown. He took a deep breath and looked around, blinking rapidly. Brian was extremely grateful for this. If Tiffany had the chance to ask what his zombie plan was, he would have been extremely embarrassed. It just wasn't something you talked to a non-nerd about.

"Are you okay?" Tiffany asked Hector, still holding onto him.

Hector looked at her as if he had no idea who she was. Recognition flashed across his face and, with a shake of his head he was back to normal.

"Yeah, sorry. Just getting my land legs back. Echolocation is weird anyway, but the fog makes it worse. It's like static on an old T.V." he explained.

"You didn't see anything, then?" Brian said.

"No, sorry. Noche couldn't see any better than we can, and the fog made it hard for him to echolocate."

"Well, at least we tried."

"I don't like it," Ylva said from behind them. She came up to stand next to Brian.

"The fog, or my bat?" Hector joked.

"The fog," clarified Ylva with a wary gaze to the right. "It doesn't make any sense. There aren't any rivers near here that I'm aware of, this isn't a valley, and we aren't close enough to the Ustaloche, so where is it coming from?"

"You think it's magical?" Brian asked.

"I think Exandria is a fantasy world, and doesn't follow the normal laws of physics," determined Ylva. "Still, we should keep an eye out."

They walked on for about five minutes more, Brian now more on guard than ever. What Ylva said made a whole lot of sense. Being from New York, and thus always close to the water, Brian never really thought about where fogs came from. In perfectly flat, relatively dry land like this, such a thick layer of mist really did make little sense.

They hadn't made it far at all after this conversation when a cry erupted from one of the rearward wagons.

"Bear!" Screamed a voice Brian recognized as the female Dragonborn.

"They're in the mist! Bandits!" Shouted an unidentified male voice.

In an instant Brian, Tiffany, and Ylva had drawn their weapons. Hector fumbled with removing his spellbook from the pouch hanging from his right shoulder. Brian looked around for his barbarian friend. While he couldn't find the big man, he did hear him shouting.

"Just once! Just once, I'd like to get through a job without you assholes showing up!"

"Everyone spread out, don't let them surround us!" Ylva shouted, but it was too late. The road erupted in chaos.

Brian's position between Tiffany and Ylva put him in the middle of the pack. Up ahead, the road took a turn to the right. He charged forward, up just past the apex of the bend. Through the fog he saw a figure stand, doubtless ready to charge in, a human with an unnatural head. He gripped his holy symbol with his left hand. The right pointed palmward at the figure as a prayer left his lips. Golden light traveled through the holy symbol, down his arm, and out of his hand. It engulfed the figure, leaving behind only ashes. The fog around it burned away like paper alight at the edges, but more mist began to fill the space.

Behind him a fire erupted from the ground beneath the third wagon in the column. The horses shrieked and reared. Their tugging at the bit combined with the sudden flame allowed the leather leads which attached them to the wagon to snap. They bolted in opposite directions, disappearing into the fog.

Tiffany had no idea what was happening, but she knew an unseen spellcaster was bad. She walked around the wagon a few steps behind her until a hill on the left of the road came into view. A single tree sprouted from the ground on it, right of which a Druid man with a living snake around his neck pointed a long gnarled staff at the fire he'd just made. Beside him, a murder of crows had just taken flight. To the other side of the tree, a woman who appeared to have slathered herself in honey. Tiffany lined up a shot on the Druid and fired, but the fog threw off her aim. The bolt embedded in the tree. She cursed under her breath and reloaded.

The crows flew low to the ground, engulfing Tiffany. She swatted at them with her crossbow while protecting her face with the other hand. She was about to draw a dagger when she realized they weren't hurting her. Instead, they lighted all over the wagon behind her and began to peck at the leads holding the horses in place.

Hector looked all around him, but couldn't see anything. He _had_ to get rid of this fog. He walked up next to Brian. The wizard made a broad circle in front with his arm, arcane words on his breath, and thrust his palm through the center of it. A great gust emanated from his palm. It blew away the fog in a column before him. But the mist was thick. For all his work, he only managed to reveal an elven man with dozens of feathers stuck in his waist-length golden hair.

The cultists on the right of the road swarmed in. One went up to the second wagon in the line, right next to Calvin. Instead of attacking the big barbarian, he cut free one of the horses, which fled into the fog.

"Hands off the merchandise!" Calvin shouted. He smacked the cultist hard in the back, but the man with a wolf's jaw for a hat completely ignored him. It was as if he didn't even feel the pain.

A cultist with a shirt made from raw pig hide rushed up to Ylva. He made a slice at her with his arming sword but the shieldmaiden blocked. Ylva countered with a thrust, but the man dodged to the right.

Another still ran up to Brian. The cleric braced himself for impact, but the halfling with an orange cat's tail sewn to his rump simply continued on past without even a glance at his supposed opponent.

As all of this was happening, a group of enemies from the left side of the road went on the attack. A second one rushed up the to wagon Calvin guarded and cut away its last horse without acknowledging the barbarian. One went over to the wagon a several feet behind Tiffany and began to cut away the leads, while a dwarf did the same one wagon up. All of them wore some sort of gory accouterments.

Finally, the bear made its move. It was a black bear, smaller than Calvin would have thought, but that didn't' really matter as it loped on up to him.

"Oh shit!" He called as his club spun to deflect a swipe from vicious claws, and then a bite from terrible teeth.

Brian didn't like that a cultist was completely ignoring him. Whatever this halfling was up to, it couldn't be good. The cleric grabbed onto his holy symbol as the enemy ran past. He reached out as black tendrils consumed his hand. A slap passed them into the halfling, who withered and died mid step. When he fell it was with a sickening crunch, like a bag of leaves hitting a gravel driveway. One threat dealt with, Brian moved on to the cultist dwarf to his left, currently trying to free a horse.

The Druid ran from his hill and cut a line through the fray. He avoided Tiffany to stand next to the wagon she currently guarded. He pointed his staff at the very last vehicle in the group. Just as before, a great gout of fire rose up between the horses and the wagon itself. The beasts tore at their leads and sprinted off into the fog.

Tiffany knew she had to stop this man from committing his evil deeds. She aimed at him and fired again. This time, she managed to pierce straight through his thigh. The Druid screamed out in pain, but didn't acknowledge her in any other way. Frustrated, Tiffany reloaded.

While all of this was happening, the murder of crows went unassailed as the swarming creatures worked to free a horse. By beak and talon they managed to cut one loose. Just like the others, it vanished in the mist.

Hector agreed that this Druid had to be stopped. He took a trio of simple pecan tarts from his component pouch and crushed them. Next he waved a feather at the Druid. That now quite familiar pink cloud wafted from him over to the enemy. The Druid seemed briefly aware of the effect for a moment, but shook it off with a great convulsion.

The cultists continued their work, using the battle as a distraction. Calvin looked to his left just in time to see two enemies set loose the horses from the first wagon in the line.

The one engaged with Ylva slashed down at her right shoulder, a blow that did just enough damage to crack something. The Norsewoman retaliated by striking low into the pig flesh on his ribs. She summoned her strength to then cut across his throat. He fell to the ground, gasping, hands clawing at the gash leaking blood from his neck. Ylva had no time to worry about him. She moved over to the Druid.

The cultist right next to Calvin moved away form him. The barbarian tried to get a hit in as she went, but the elf covered in honey pulled off a Matrix-level duck to escape. Free of danger, she dashed all the way up to the middle wagon. The man already at this one liberated a horse. On down the line, the dwarven cultist struggled to cut at the reigns.

With his failure to stop the one from moving, Calvin instead turned his rage on the bear still dueling with him. He smashed it over the head. For his trouble, he received claws through his right leg and a bite which took a chunk from his opposite flank. Calvin grit his teeth. This beast would not see him bleed.

Brian raised a prayer to Bahamut as he raised his warhammer. Divine fury guided his hand as he brought it down into the dwarf trying to set free one of the horses. The extraplanar aid only lasted one swing, but even so the cleric brought his weapon around and down again. The cultist weathered all of the abuse and remained standing, wholly focused on his task.

The Druid had to get this sword-wielding woman out of his face. He removed a piece of iron smaller than his pinky finger and pressed it against her cheek, all the while uttering some words in a language he didn't speak. The iron glowed and vanished, leaving behind an immobile combatant. Ylva followed him with her eyes and, though she tried with all her might, couldn't move. She screamed internally as the Druid moved up between Hector and the wagon on his left.

Tiffany saw what was going on around her, the battle, the magic, the horses. The latter seemed like the most important, to both herself and the enemy. She shouldered her weapon and fired at the one closest to her. It passed clean through her neck, a gout of blood and honey. As she fell, Tiffany reloaded.

Just as they had before, the ravens cut free the final horse on the cart they had been working with. As the animal fled for its life, the swarm flew on to the second to last wagon in the line.

The enemy's game was pretty obvious to Hector. They only wanted the horses. To that end, his goal had to be the elimination of the ones closest to that objective. That meant spinning around to attack the one at the wagon behind him. He held out his staff and made circles around the tip with his opposite palm, each rotation carrying more fire with it. Three blazing streaks issued forth. One went wide, the second hit the cultist in the shoulder. The third passed straight down his throat as he cried out in pain. Smoke escaped from his mouth, eyes, and ears as he crumpled, immolated from the inside out.

The men to Calvin's left dashed away from their recently liberated vehicle to the one Tiffany had just saved. One of them made it to the horses, but the other only reached the back side. In the same breath, the final horse was freed from the second to last wagon, despite Brian's best efforts to stop it.

Calvin watched all of this happen, but was useless to stop it. The bear he dueled with effectively cut him off from the rest of the battle. That filled him with a rage more palpable that the one that already pumped through his veins. He gave the creature a smash over the head. It countered with another claw strike to the same injured leg. What followed was a bite, but Calvin was ready. He put his club in the way so the teeth met it instead of his body. Expecting to tear soft flesh, the bear clamped down hard. Calvin felt something crack as the powerful jaws clamped down on the studded wood weapon. The bear reeled back, lower jaw hanging misaligned to one side.

As both the horses and the enemies dropped like flies around him, Brian knew he had to end this. He smashed his hammer over the head of his current opponent one more time, a blow strong enough to bring them down.

The Druid saw the attack coming to a close. One last time he enthralled a flame to sprout beneath a wagon. The horses ran away. The Druid took a cue from them and also fled. As he ran away from Hector, the old wizard struck out with his staff. Though he lamped the Druid across the temple, the man remained upright. He dashed into the fog.

Hector gave chase. Once he regained visual, he put a drop of water atop his staff, slashed it down with ice blue trailing the tip, and thrust forward. Out from the arc shot a blue glacial shard. It tore through the Druid's side to land in the ground before him. The Druid dug his own staff into the ground and used it to redirect his movement a split second before the shard detonated. He escaped, not unharmed but still standing.

The crows pecked free the final horse and took flight into the mist. The final remaining cultists did the same.

Calvin looked around him and saw that the other enemies had all fled. The only one left was this bear that had antagonized him. With a cry for the gods of rage, Calvin struck down upon it. The bear's legs gave out from underneath it. The thing hit the ground chin-first in a heap, motionless.

Brian stood motionless for a moment, a sentinel over his kill, blood dripping from his hammer as he looked all around for any remaining enemies. A minute passed, maybe two, but the plains were silent. Quickly as they came, the attackers vanished.

With them went the obfuscation. The fog dissipated, but the cultists were nowhere to be found. Wagon masters emerged from hiding within their covered wagons to behold the truth which slowly sunk in to Brian as the landscape became visible once again. They were alone. The horses were gone. The caravan was stranded in the middle of the road.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: A lot of excellent rolls in this one, not much missing or failed spells. Even Brian held his own in melee combat, which he hasn't been very good at thus far. There were orignally two more cultists, but I found they too easily overwhelmed the party, so I lowered their numbers.**

 **The Druid was casting Create Bonfire to burn free the horses. Technically, this would damage the animals, but not enough to come near killing them so I ignored it. He escaped the fight with two whole hit points.**

 **The bear's entire purpose was to hold Calvin in place. It's last attack was a natural 1, but I wasn't sure how to make a bear fumble since it doesn't have hands or weapons, so I went for a broken jaw that removed its bite attack. I almost had Tiffany move up and take a shot at it, but I wanted to give Calvin the glory of defeating a bear in single combat, because that shit's cool. It wouldn't have made a difference, I don't think.**

 **Please remember to leave a review.**


	25. Two Returns

"Well fucking _now_ what?" Calvin asked. He stood amongst a throng in the middle of the wagons, club at his feet as he looked around.

"Is it safe to come out?" A male voice from inside one of the wagons said.

"Yes, it's safe," Klyppik called back. At his behest, the wagon masters emerged from hiding, all of them looking shaken and confused. More than one inspected their vehicles for damage before looking vainly around for where the horses could have went.

Brian would have joined them, if not for the futility of it all. He realized his weapons were still out and quickly stowed them away, hammer on his belt and shield at his back. Though he disagreed with Calvin's coping method, he couldn't fault the big man's point of view. What were they supposed to do now, with no horses and a bunch of cargo to transport? He would have rather the valuables been stolen, because at least then they wouldn't have to be dealt with. Now, they were the root of the problem.

"How did this even happen?" Calvin continued to ask loud questions of no one.

"They overwhelmed us, plain and simple," Hector said.

"They overwhelmed _you_ maybe. _I_ killed a bear!" Calvin pointed to the corpse for emphasis. "Did anyone else kill a bear? No? I did pretty good, then."

"I think that was the point, Cal," Ylva said. "The bear was supposed to hold you, the biggest person, in place while the rest of them went after the horses. They did something similar to me." The shieldmaiden stretched, likely a side effect of the waning Hold Person spell.

"Oh, well that's just fucking _great_. Take my victory away from me, why don't ya?" Calvin threw up his hands and turned away from her.

"No one's taking anything away from you," Klyppik said. "We all did the best we could. That's something to be proud of."

"We?" Calvin rounded on the much smaller man. " _We_? No, _my_ people did the best we could. _You_ all just sat around hiding. You didn't even try to help!"

"What do you want us to do?" A half-elven man said from his wagon. "We're merchants, not soldiers. That's what we hired you for."

"Yeah? Well, I hope you got your money's worth," Calvin fired back.

"Calvin, please, arguing won't get us anywhere. We need solutions, not more fighting," Hector said.

"Solutions, great. Leave it to the _wizard_ to make the plan," complained Calvin.

"I like the way you think," Klyppik ignored him. "The sooner we get on the move, the better. So, what's the major problem?"

"The horses are gone," said the female yellow Dragonborn as she joined them.

"Exactly," agreed the gnome. "So, we need someone to go back to Alfield and get more horses."

"Cool, and how are we gonna _pay_ for these horses," Calvin said. "I'm not about to spend more money that I would've made on this bullshit."

"I can buy them, that's not a big deal. It's just a matter of getting them," Klyppik said.

"Let's not get hasty, now," Hector said with a placating hand up. "The horses can't have gotten far. We should try to look for them, first. I can use my bat to help find them." He snapped his fingers, and Noche appeared on his left shoulder in a puff of purple smoke.

"I can help, too," Tiffany stepped forward. "My dad hasn't taken me hunting for a long time, but I remember how to track an animal."

"I'll join you," offered the Dragonborn. "Two sets of eyes are better than one, and mine are better than most."

Tiffany did not offer any sort of response to this positive or negative, but the way she reluctantly met the eyes of the Dragonborn indicated her discomfort with the idea. Still, the latter seemed mostly satisfied with the arrangement, and Brian thought even Tiffany realized it was a good idea.

"Alright, so let's do that for a day, and then send some of us to buy whatever horses we need tomorrow," suggested Klyppik.

"Sounds good to me," said Ylva.

There came no argument, and so everyone set about putting their plan into action. Hector immediately found a spot inside one of the wagons to meld his consciousness with Noche, who flew off in a seemingly random direction. After a brief discussion, Tiffany and the Dragonborn went in the opposite one. The rest of the caravan members began to either inspect their wares, or wait until a horse was found.

In watching all of this unfold around him, Brian realized he'd left himself with absolutely nothing to do. He had no property to worry about, zero experience tracking hooved animals, and even if he found one would have no idea what to do with it. Indeed, for the first time in his questing career, Brian was utterly useless. He had no skills applicable to the current needs. The only thing he could do with relative efficacy was take watch. So, that's what he did. The cleric began walking slow circles around the caravan, waiting to see if any more of the cultists showed up.

It was both striking and disturbing just how droll this period after action had become. There had been so much fighting, so much _excitement_ out of nowhere, and now there was nothing at all. He definitely hated the implications of that. Was this what his life had become? Had he lost all sense of what to do with himself when outside of combat? Or, was this all just the adrenaline talking? He didn't know the answer, which made matters even worse.

The day progressed very much like this, with Brian patrolling the caravan while overthinking the majority of notions that came to his mind. He really was his own nemesis. The worst thing he could do for himself was to be locked away in his own thoughts. Yet, he did nothing to stop it, either. His brain was a familiar place, his thoughts a sanctuary from the badness outside. At least inside his mind he had some control over what happened. The world, not so much.

Sure, he could probably find Ylva and have a nice distracting conversation with her, but that presented the possibility of extraneous factors removed from his control. With everything that had happened in just the past couple days, Brian found these factors untenable. He much preferred to stay within himself, where nothing could hurt, or ambush, or insult him. His head was a safe space. Exandria was not.

Tiffany, Noche, and the female Dragonborn searched through the night, a nonissue for the latter, though Brian imagined Tiffany did just fine as well. Occasionally, the master of the wagon Hector had taken shelter in would shout directions and one or two members of the caravan would run off to find whatever had been revealed to them. This always resulted in the return of a horse.

As dawn broke the next day, Tiffany and the Dragonborn returned leading an entourage of horses, four to be exact. With the three Noche managed to locate, this made for a half the herd. There was some discussion about whether they should do this again for one more day but Klyppik, understandably concerned, shot the idea down. Instead, they eventually agreed to go with the original plan.

Assignments were given out, and some of the merchants went back on their way to Alfield. Ylva and Hector decided to accompany them for security. In this travel, the horses came in handy. As they had seven mounts, seven folks including the two Guild members were chosen to mount up and make their way. This would undoubtedly speed them up.

Brian was surprised to see that both Ylva and Hector knew how to ride horses. Ylva seemed to be a bit of renaissance woman, so that she could at least made sense. Hector, however, gave off much gentler vibes. Yet, he climbed into the saddle and trotted away as if it were natural. Was this the Gift of Knowledge at work? It had given them most of the applicable skills necessary for adventuring. The ability to ride a horse seemed necessary, at least to him. He'd have to try it, if he ever had the guts. Being so close to the horses had shown him just how big, powerful, fast, and dumb they were. That looked to him like a bad combination of traits. He'd never had a reason to think about it before, but Brian didn't think he liked horses.

Another day passed almost exactly the same as the first, except this time Brian had even fewer friends to talk to. The wagon masters weren't bad people, of that he was positive, but they weren't exactly acquaintances, either. Even Klyppik, who might have been one of the most amicable people the cleric had ever met, was a no go.

At the same time, Brian didn't want to cling to his party members. They probably had their own agendas to worry about. Calvin, anyway, seemed content to make long patrols of the caravan. Tiffany was nowhere to be found, which just meant she didn't want to be bothered in her solitude. Brian was surrounded by people, yet he felt utterly alone. Eventually, he settled on going to sit down at the head of the wagon train and wait, head turning this way and that for threats. None came, of course, which heightened his self isolation.

Night fell, which came as a surprise to him. He'd hopelessly lost track of time. Eyes dull on the horizon failed to even notice the sun go down. The only reason Brian noticed was the lack of clear vision. Were he a race capable of seeing in the dark, he might not have noticed at all. As it stood, nighttime enveloped him, a sensation he oddly welcomed. When he couldn't see the world around him, it felt much less claustrophobic. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out slowly.

"This is all kinds of fucked up, ain't it?" Said the voice of Calvin from behind him. Brian turned in time to see the big walked up.

"You mean just now, or in general," Brian joked.

"Just now," shrugged Calvin. He took a seat to the cleric's right.

Brian looked forward. "It definitely didn't go as planned."

"Man, nothing went as planned," Calvin said. "First, that cult guy didn't tell us anything, and then this happened. And we were on a roll, too."

"Every party loses, sometimes. I know mine have plenty of times." Brian did his best to offer condolences, though the attempt was pretty weak.

"But those were never real. If some shit went down at the table, we could all just suck it up and go on with our night, but we can't do that, here. We're in it, now, and that's all there is to it."

"Yeah." Brian paused. "This certainly isn't how I ever imagined living in a fantasy world would be."

"I know!" Calvin agreed immediately. "I always thought I'd be the big hero, charging into battle and killing a thousand dudes. Instead, I'm stuck on the side of the road." Calvin threw a rock Brian hadn't seen him pick up.

"What world did you want to live in?" Brian felt he might be pushing his boundaries with that question, but this was his first ever real conversation with just Calvin. He wanted to get to know the barbarian a little better.

"I wanted to go to the Warhammer World," Calvin answered. "I imagined I'd be a Dawi, taking the fight to the greenskins, kicking them out of the mountains, real hardcore shit. You?"

Brian hesitated. "I don't know... Does Star Wars count? I always wanted to be a Jedi."

"Hell yeah Star Wars counts. Quick, favorite Jedi?"

"Ahsoka Tano," Brian said without missing a beat.

"Kit Fisto," Calvin followed. "I didn't like Ahsoka, at first, but she grew on me."

"I think that's how most people felt. I always liked her, even back during the movie."

"I can respect that."

"You guys shouldn't be sitting out here in the dark." Both men turned at the same time at the sound of Tiffany's voice. She sat with her legs straight on Brian's other side.

"It's nighttime. Everywhere's dark," Calvin argued.

"You know what I mean," she insisted.

"Yeah, but now you're out here in _the dark_ , so you're no better than us," continued Calvin.

"I guess," she said. The ghost of a smirk played across her face, just visible in the low light. She paused. "You think they're okay?"

"Hector and Ylva?" Calvin asked. Tiffany nodded. "Please, they're _fine_. If anyone can handle buying a few horses, it's them."

"They _do_ seem pretty well adjusted. Better than any of us, anyway," Brian added.

"I'm not so sure about that," Tiffany said. "I think, at this point, we're all adjusted."

"Really?" Calvin raised an eyebrow. "Even you?"

"Yeah, even me. I got to a point where I had to accept what was happening, because this place is so dangerous that if I didn't it would kill me. I don't like it here. I _hate_ it. But I won't let it get me."

"That's a good way of looking at it," Brian agreed.

"This place ain't so bad," Calvin said. "It's nice to look at, most of the people seem okay, and we have steady work."

"Yeah, except that out work involves killing people." Tiffany tucked her knees up to her chest. "I still don't think I'm used to that one."

"I try not to think about it. Easier that way," Brian agreed.

"I don't think we should get used to it. I mean, wouldn't that make us psychopaths or something?" Calvin said.

"Sociopaths, but you're right," Brian corrected, but then acquiesced.

"We're probably headed there." Tiffany leaned back, supporting herself on her palms. "I'll be amazed if we all get out of this with our sanity intact."

"Oh, trust me, I went crazy long before coming here," Calvin said. It wasn't a particularly funny joke, but they shared a laugh all the same.

Brian wasn't sure exactly how long the three of them stayed up talking like that, but he knew it was far too late. They probably should've gone to bed well before they did, but Brian didn't care. He kept feeding into the conversation so it would continue longer and longer. It was far and away the lengthiest talk he'd ever had with Calvin, and the most casual he'd ever been with Tiffany. Even their study sessions were more business than anything else. For them both to let their guard down around him was an indescribable sensation. It almost felt like they were finally more than just teammates, maybe even real friends.

Before dawn the next day came a great clattering of hooves and shouting of men. Brian awoke from the random spot he'd chosen to fall asleep to see that Hector and Ylva had arrived, along with the rest of the merchants and a cadre of horses. They were greeted by praise, laughter, and even a few cheers. A thread of relief ran through the happiness. The celebration was for the chance to finally go home, not because of who had given them that opportunity, and it showed in the energy of those who took part.

The members of the caravan wasted zero time getting the new horses hitched up. Brian stayed out of the way. While it was hard to know what he knew, something told him he couldn't be much help with attaching horses to carts. A cursory glance revealed his companions had similar ideas, but so they could keep watch. He decided that as probably a good idea. Once the task completed, they were off.

And like that, three days passed. The entire first, a palpable edge permeated the atmosphere. Now that the company was moving, instead of relaxed, everyone had their guard up. Brian expected another attack to come any minute, to become stranded again and this time even further from a replenishment of their herd. If he read the situation correctly, the others agreed with him. He kept his eyes on the sides of the road in search of anything out of the ordinary, or fogs that shouldn't have been there. Everyone else did the same.

By the time day two rolled around and nothing bad happened, the caravan relaxed considerably. The idle chatter between the merchants returned, though at a lower volume. Ylva even joined in with them, which annoyed Brian for some reason. One day alone with them, and all of a sudden they're all best friends? Why did he never have such an easy time making people like him? Of course, as these thoughts assaulted his mind, he knew how stupid they were. He did his best to eject them, and actually managed a pretty good job of it.

Brian was shocked when, a little after noon on the third day, the town of Trostenwald came into view. Then, he remembered they'd already traveled one whole day when the cultists attacked, which meant they had only three total days left when the caravan got back underway. This all worked for him. The sooner they got back home, the better.

After they reached a certain point in town, likely far enough in that everyone felt mostly safe, Klyppik handed out payment for the job. Each member received a hundred gold, which the gnome admitted must've been a pittance compared to what they normally made. He thanked them for everything that happened, apologized for how badly it went, and parted ways.

Brian pocketed the money without counting it, nor did he bother to put it in his coin purse. The frustration of the job hadn't really hit him until they reached town. When he didn't have to be frustrated by it anymore was when he realized how awful it had been. The sooner he washed his hands of it, the better. Whether his teammates agreed or not he refrained from asking, but they went right away back to the Adventurer's Guild all the same.

The journey through the halls took them along the same path as always. They didn't encounter Therdin along the way, and for that Brian was grateful. Much as he liked the kind elf, the last thing he wanted to do was get stuck in a conversation. Now that he was finally home, within spitting distance of a warm bed, his one desire was to report back to Edgar and go to sleep.

When no one stopped them on their way to the old wizard's door, Brian actually breathed a sigh of relief. Hector reached out to knock three times.

"Enter," came the immediate response.

Upon opening of the door, Brian wondered if Edgar ever moved. There he sat, at the same writing desk in the same corner next to the entrance, writing in what looked like the same book. While administering to a whole Guild certainly involved a fair bit of clerical work, it seemed the only thing Edgar ever did. What kind of boring life did the man lead?

"Ah, you've returned." Edgar closed his book and turned to them. "Later than expected, but that's neither here nor there."

"Yes, things... didn't go as planned," Ylva said.

"Tell me," Edgar said, more an order than a friendly request.

"Well, we might have broken a rule," Ylva said slowly. "The prisoner was a dead end. He didn't tell us anything we hadn't already guessed at. While we were recovering in a tavern, a gnome approached us. He wanted to hire us to help guard his merchant caravan, and we agreed."

"Is that what you mean?" Edgar asked. Ylva nodded. "There's nothing wrong with that. Your contract is with the Guild, yes, but it doesn't say you only ever have to work for us. As long as whatever you do doesn't interfere with Guild work or violate our core beliefs, then taking external jobs is perfectly fine."

At Edgar's explanation, a collective weight lifted off of everyone's shoulders. Brian certainly felt ten pounds lighter, and a mite less tired. He was sure all of them had been worried to death about what consequences may be waiting for them. That there were none was both the most unbelievable outcome, but also the most preferable. He almost couldn't believe it came true.

"It shouldn't take a caravan from Alfield this long to get here. What kept you?" Edgar brought them all back to reality.

"That's the 'not as planned' part," Hector began. "On the way, more of the cultists we told you about attacked us. They didn't take any of the goods, though. Instead, all they wanted was to free the horses. We weren't able to stop them, and all of our horses were cut loose. We needed some time to recover what horses we could, while some of us returned to Alfield to purchase replacements."

"Hmm..." Edgar thought for a moment. "You say they attacked you. It must have been an ambush, but the land from here to Alfield is mostly flat. How did they pull it off?"

"Fog," Calvin said. "They used some magic bullshit fog. We never saw them."

"Creating a fog that thick, and maintaining it in the middle of a fight, is no simple task. If what you say is true then it is... _distressing_. These vagabonds may be more dangerous than I previously thought."

"That's what I was afraid of, too," Hector nodded.

"Give me just a moment, please."

Edgar then did something Brian had never seen before. He flipped back through his book, skimming pages at an unnatural pace. There was no way he could possibly read any of the words on the pages he turned, yet Brian watched his eyes pour over the pages. Within seconds, though he'd been through half the book, he found what he looked for.

"Yes, here it is. There have been reports of several arsons near the town of Felderwin. Myself, and the contractors, assumed it was goblins, but now I'm not so sure. If we know this cult is operating around this area, then it's not beyond belief that they've spread that far east," Edgar said.

"You think the cult is behind them," Ylva asked.

"I don't know. I can't until it's investigated. I hate to send you out so soon, but I want you to take the job, see what you can find."

Brian's heart sank. Perhaps he wouldn't get that nap after all. A jolt ran through the rest of his teammates. They were all tired, Ylva and Hector most of all. None of them wanted to take another job immediately after finishing the botch job they just did.

"You sure you want us to do it?" Calvin did his best to get out of it, though it was a weak attempt.

"Well, you're not the most experienced, nor the most trusted, but you are the most qualified. Right now, you're the only Guild party that has dealt with these cultists, which makes you the best suited to tracking them down. I can give the job to someone else, of course, but I would like for you to do it."

Of course, Edgar's explanation made perfect sense. And, Brian would be lying if he said he harbored no ill will toward the cult. They had made life difficult for his friends a few times, now, and had put them in grave peril on each occasion. He almost died because of them. It was simply impossible to live through experiences like he had without a desire to see those responsible brought to heel. So, even though a quest was the absolute last thing he wanted, the answer to Edgar's call was an obvious one.

"We'll do it," Ylva said. She faced no words to the contrary.

"Good. Take the rest of today and tomorrow to rest, and then I want you on the road. Make note of _everything_ , every detail, no matter how small, and report back to me." Edgar gave his orders.

"We will," Hector said.

"Then you are dismissed." As he always did, Edgar went right back to his book, a clear indication that it was time for them to be gone.

Brian followed his team out and back to the same rooms they'd been staying in since arriving at Trostenwald what seemed like forever ago. Words could not describe the bliss of finally removing his armor after spending such a long time in it. When he fell into bed, he barely had time to think about the new development before sleep took him. The rest that followed was a peaceful one designed by the melting away of immeasurable exhaustion. He dreamt of goblins, and fire, and men wearing stag heads, and hoped none of these vision were prophetic.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Perception checks from Noche, and a survival check for Tiffany and the Dragonborn. I gave them both advantage since Noche has it on any check involving sound, which echolocation technically does, and Tiffany because she had help. With advantage, they both rolled 18, which meant they returned with half the herd. It would have required two natural 20's to find the entire thing.**

 **I'm sorry updates have been so sparse. You'd think a global pandemic would give me more time to write, but the opposite is true. I'm working more than ever at my _essential_ job, and that's giving me little time for anything. I can't promise when the next update will be out, especially since I still have my Star Wars fic to worry about, but I'm not abandoning this story. **


	26. Fic Suspended

**As you can tell by the title, I don't come today with good news. Some of you may remember a while ago I announced I would be starting a Star Wars fan fiction that would be updated in tandem with this one. I thought I could handle juggling two fics at once. I thought working on them both would keep them from getting stale. Instead, the opposite is true. I burned out faster than I ever have, than I ever thought possible. To put it lightly, I bit off more than I could chew. This burnout hit me hard, to the point where I wasn't writing either fic. I knew something had to be done. So, I have come to the decision to suspend _The Strangers_ until further notice.**

 **This isn't a decision I came to lightly. I realized the necessity of suspending one of my fics about a month ago, and have been agonizing over the decision ever since. However, the choice of which one was never in doubt. Looking at it objectively, my other fic is just better. It's more cohesive, shorter, more established, and has better characterization. If I was going to continue either, I knew which one to pick. I'm sorry to have let you all down.**

 **To all of my readers, thank you. So much. You all have been so kind, generous, and supportive, things I am most certainly _not_ used to. If you feel the need to leave a nasty comment and/or unfollow, I understand. It is your right to do so.**

 **If you want to read more of my writing, then look up the imaginatively named _Sequel Trilogy Rewrite_. It is the fic I will be updating regularly. I may one day come back to _The Strangers_ , but until then, I wish all you Critters a fond farewell. **


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